Live Well
by Alastair
Summary: FemKakaFic Kakarotto was betrothed to the violent prince before she was born, so the scared parents 'buy' Bardock's unborn daughter, naming her Kakarotto, putting her in pretty gowns, and telling her to die well, but she's not going down without a fight.
1. Prologue

**Live Well**

_Prologue_

Kakarotto was hushed again for sneezing. The cool air of the night was bothering her cold more and more as they walked through the streets. As the moon rose higher into the sky, so did the temperature drop from the day's sweltering heat.

She considered stomping on her mother's foot, and running back home, but that would dishonor her, and her father would have been waiting back home anyway. When she sighed, her mother shushed her again before she mostly ignored Kakarotto, their steps quickening from the sight of one of the Night Watch turning on a streetlight. It would not do for them to be caught when the moneylender's mansion was just in view.

Just before she had been born, her father had borrowed money from the lord of their region. As a captain of the Night Watch, he was a well-respected figure, but even so, it was hard to put food on the table with respect alone. When her mother had been near to starving while carrying Kakarotto in the womb, Bardock had gone to the lord, asking for a pithy sum to feed his mate and unborn child.

The lord had agreed to loan them the money on one term. His lordship had his own newly born daughter to think of, and she had been betrothed to the five-year-old prince upon news of her healthy birth.

He knew it was likely that the already violent young prince would only become more barbaric as he grew older, and he did not wish to lose his own precious daughter. Bardock's unborn child had been discovered by the doctors to be a female, and because of that, it was the only reason that the lord agreed.

On the eve of the wedding, their daughters had to switch places in the secret of the night – thus saving the lord's precious daughter, and Bardock's mate. Kakarotto was merely a sacrifice to a horrendous god-like being.

"Mama," she whispered when they ducked into an alley for a few moments.

She answered when there were no heard footsteps, "Yes, baby?"

"Radittsu told me that the prince is going to eat me." The girl – still only fifteen years of age – peeked up at her through her bangs, "Is he really, Mama?"

Sighing, she knelt down to face her better, "If you do as you are told by your new mate, all will be well. Just be as good as you can, and you'll live longer."

While Kakarotto thought those words through, her mother took her hand to pull her down the sidewalk, the door to the mansion only moments away. She could remember Radittsu's somber laugh after he had told her that, and then he would not talk anymore about it, shoving her aside when she would ask for more information. Bardock had laughed when she asked if she would be the prince's meal, and gave her some rather coarse counsel for their wedding night.

This had been the night before last, and, whenever she had tried to get information on this from her mother, she had continued to claim, "Not now, baby. I'm busy."

She had never called her Kakarotto except for sometimes in the presence of strangers or introducing her to others. She was always 'baby' or 'little love' or even 'darling.' Her mother had never been given the chance to name her own daughter as custom required. Bardock's newborn was named so because it had been the name of the lord's daughter.

They hadn't wanted any confusion to arise if Bardock's mate had been allowed to name her daughter something else. It had left a strange impression on their daughter however, when she learned what was to become of her. If the real Kakarotto was the lord's daughter, then who was she in truth?

Sniffling, she wiped at her nose with the sleeve of her dark cape, and paused when she heard someone else sniffle. Upon raising her eyes, Kakarotto saw her mother's shoulders start to shake as she approached the front gates.

She whispered again, "Mama? Are you crying?"

The woman didn't answer, and only pulled on Kakarotto's wrist harder. Clamping her mouth shut, she didn't mention it again and finally stepped in front of the gates. The guard on their side looked back and forth down the street for a long while, looking for people who might see them as a guard on the other side opened the gate.

Here, the woman knelt down again, and clasped her arms around Kakarotto tightly; murmuring into her ear, "Don't be afraid, baby. I'll always be here for you. Don't forget me."

Biting her lip, she buried her face into the crook of her mother's neck, "Okay, Mama."

She pulled back after a few minutes, checking her over before she smiled softly, and said as she brushed aside an errant strand of hair, "My baby's going to be a princess. I'm so proud of her."

"I love you, Mama."

Her smile began to shake, "I know, baby … I know. I love you too." She blinked away tears, wiping away a few before she smiled, and poked Kakarotto's stomach, "When the prince takes you to his bed tomorrow night, you have to scream as loud as you can, okay? Remember that. Those palace maids told you he likes women in his bed to scream, okay?"

She nodded dubiously, "But not when we're sleeping."

"Exactly, baby," she finally dabbed at her own face with the rough cloth of her cloak. "You might be scared tomorrow night, but don't worry. It's normal. Just do as he says, and you won't get hurt too much. It'll get better with time – you'll see."

"Okay, Mama," she nodded.

A guard grabbed Kakarotto's shoulder then, and her mother stepped back as she was lead past the gates, and into the mansion.

The darkened courtyard was ominous as the gate shut behind her, but she didn't look back, trying to get used to the grandeur that was around her. Surely, the palace would be no different from even this mansion. As the guards opened the wide double-doors, she did then look back over her shoulder, but her mother was already gone.

When they brought her to the Lord and Lady's Council Room, she was wearing only her rough, dark robe, and the heavily weighted linen dress that her father had specially made to help strengthen her. The Lady turned up her nose, and claimed that she stank, at which, the Lord ordered her to be bathed, and dressed into clothes more suited for the soon-to-be Princess Kakarotto.

She hadn't had the time to protest, but then, Kakarotto didn't think she would want to smell herself either after having done all of that last minute training. As such, she couldn't smell anything because of her cold anyway, and she figured that since she always felt a little better after bathing at the Lord's, she might rather enjoy it.

The luxury of a sweat bath was rare for commoners – never mind a poor peasant such as herself – but since she was to become a princess, the Lord had made it so that she was used to such things.

Public baths were the only way for commoners to bathe unless they had the money it took to construct their own sweat bath. The common materials for the building and maintaining of a sweat bath was often more expensive than the water used to create the hot steam. Wood was a commodity that was only found off world, and metal – while cheaper on their world where it was abundant – was dangerous to use, and sometimes resulted in horrible burns if not built right. Children were known to suffocate in metal sweat baths that weren't built correctly.

Therefore, it was not the sweat baths that she would have griped over, but the clothes. Apparently, the princesses of Vegeta-sei wore hefty, burdensome gowns that would make her legs ache, and her arms tremble even when lifting up a pen.

Bardock had kept her in heavy peasant dresses to help her grow accustomed to the gowns she would soon adorn. Whenever she was being trained in the Lord's estate on etiquette or other such things, she was put into what Noblewomen would wear. Noble gowns were much lighter than a Saiyajin Princess' gown; yet, they were still ten times heavier than the plain weighted dress that she was currently wearing.

It was all simply preparation for the Royal Robes that were awaiting her at the palace.

The traveling frock that they were putting her in was one of the lighter of the different kinds of gowns that she would come to wear, but it still put a Noble evening gown to shame. Her knees were close to buckling after the attendants had put on a shift, a corset, stockings, a chemise, and three petticoats. Kakarotto still had one more petticoat and the overdress left to adorn.

Before they brought her to the Lord and Lady of the estate again, they primped her hair to get rid of the scraggly appearance of her mane, and her eyelashes pressed to give them a flat appearance, which was the current style. During which, she had to stay perfectly still else she would be burned by the irons used for her eyelashes and hair.

Thus, when she finally stepped before them, she was exhausted. She was told to stand when she arrived however, and she bore it with an inner grimace as she attempted to stay upright. It was made a bit easier because her corset was bolstered with stiff reeds to aid in keeping her shape.

"Your task is daunting already, isn't it?" The Lady stated – it was not truly a question anymore. Kakarotto's palms, sweating under the heavy laced gloves, were finally coming to her attention. She would have looked at her much more interesting feet if she were able to see them under her skirts. "You must now pay a heavy price for the life you have lived now. To save my daughter, you will be wedded to the Heir of Vegeta-sei, the Grand Duke, and our Crowned Prince Vegeta. Princesses that are married into the Royal Family do not last long – especially if they are the Honored Princes' first wife. It would do you well to die soon."

"To your family," the Lord spoke, "you have already dead. Your 'corpse' is a Tsufurujin slave that cost merely twenty-one copper coins. That is what your life is worth. The nineteen animals slaughtered to help your pregnant mother safely rid you of her body are what your life is worth. They cost only an extra eleven copper coins."

"Your father gets to keep his mate," she said, "by disposing of you."

The Lord leaned forward a bit as he emphasized, "Though you may be worth only thirty-two coppers, that is further lightened since the dowry paid for my daughter is more than triple this estate. In actuality, you really did cost nothing."

"Die soon, and die well."

She was quavering awfully when they finally packed her into a sky-skiff. Though she was at last allowed to sit down, her body persisted to shake as she held back the tears she realized that she had been suppressing for years.

---

Water, wheat, seasonings, bitter herbs, a pot, a spoon, a shield, and a spear were what made a family prosper.

This was what had been taught to Vegeta since before he could walk, and while he could not grasp the other elements, he knew that he could bring the spear and shield into the mix just fine.

For Royalty such as himself, water was aplenty – very much unlike the rest of the populace on the desert planet. Grains and other foodstuff were never in demand in the Palace, and the Royal Chefs had plenty of spoons and pots to work with when cooking.

As such, he knew that his new wife would bring in nothing since – as a Noble Lady – she had not been taught to cook, and she would not fight because she would not have the need with him to fight for her. Vegeta realized she would only be one more mouth that had to be fed, and, as his wife, she could only bring in even more mouths to feed since it was her duty to bear him heirs.

Noble wives, he concluded, were a waste.

---

_All right, this'll be a pretty long project, but I want to do it, so … -shrugs- I figured that I ought to do the customary 'If Vegeta-sei were still around' shtick myself, and – while I haven't been researching that much into it – I've been trying to put some authenticity into the whole deal. XP;;;; Like I always do._

_Hope you enjoy._

---


	2. Wedding Preparations

**Live Well**

_Chapter One: Wedding Preparations_

While she kept herself as still as she was able given her circumstances, Kakarotto clutched her arms over each other, feigning to be bothered by the chill of the night.

She pondered over the girl still sleeping soundly back in the Lord's estate. They – herself and the real Kakarotto – had only met a few times in the past. The two of them were to pretend to be sisters. Though she had been born after her, the Lady Kakarotto was to fake being a younger sister so that they could fool the Royals.

Naming a younger daughter after the elder when she had been betrothed to a prince was done often in history, and sometimes expected of Nobles. As such, it was normal that the Lord's daughters would go about having the same names.

Those betrothed to Royalty were not meant to meet their destined spouses until the wedding ceremony. Thus, whenever the Royal Family had come to visit, Kakarotto had always been 'out on holiday' or 'training' or – Kakarotto's favorite – 'purifying her spirit for the upcoming wedding.' She had never been doing such things, of course, except perhaps for training. Kakarotto had simply been at home, and sometimes had never even known that the Royal Family had come to visit.

The city she had grown up in, Afafal, had flitted away an hour ago, and so all she had to gaze out on was the vast desert between it and the capital, Talji'Be. Night cloaked the red sands from view however, and all she could see was mauve and violet shadows flitter about. She knew them to be hunters and their game. Kakarotto sought to watch the pursuit for their next meal, but the skiff was too fast, and, other times, the figures were too enshrouded in the darkness to be seen – as was their purpose.

She longed to join them.

When she reached the Palace, Royal Guards entered the skiff, and blindfolded her. She panicked only for a moment before she remembered the traditions of a Royal wedding. While Saiyajin were not overly enthusiastic about the joining of two people, it had proved rather important for the forming of alliances between families. This was especially true if said families were once bitter rivals.

The new bride had to show that she trusted the bridegroom's friends – or in this case, bodyguards – else she was saying she didn't have confidence in her new husband. She didn't dare reveal any more nervousness to the guards because she didn't know how they would view her first bout of apprehension.

Kakarotto couldn't help being worried however. If she displeased any of the Royal Family in anyway, she might be feeling the heat of an iron searing into her back, and the cool metal of handcuffs around her wrists and ankles.

A common divorce practice was that of putting either the husband or wife into slavery by discreetly selling their mate to the highest bidder. In slavery, all legal bindings, except that of ownership, were nullified. This way, the seller was single once more, and had the bonus of their former mate not interfering.

It was the fate of many undesired mates, and it truly was a sort of death. Everything was stripped away, name, title, and possessions. These things were binding, and thus many slaves went naked unless it pleased their owners to clothe them.

She played with the thought of stomping on someone's foot, and running again.

The trip was worsened when she began to ascend and descend multiple sets of stairs. As the weight of the dress became more and more apparent with each step, so did the length of her steps become more and more short. Sweat trickled down the length of her back, and she felt her lovely, but cumbersome gown, start to dampen.

She took deep breaths, hoping that they didn't seem arduous, and her fists clenched into her skirts, straining to keep upright. The corset, which was constructed with reeds, didn't seem to help anymore because it added to the weight. While moving up the flights of stairs was difficult, she swore that walking down them was nearly suicidal for she had to strain to _not_ pitch forward and break her head open.

When time began to stretch on, she chewed on her tongue, wondering how long it would take them to reach the room put together for the wedding preparations – they would later become her new suite if she and her new husband so wanted. As the thought crossed her mind, she realized that she didn't really have to be quiet and obedient around the guards because they were there to serve her now.

Trying to make that sink in, she spoke up in a hoarse voice, "How much longer will this take?"

A male's voice chuckled, "How long will what take?"

"To get to my chambers," she elaborated with a bit more confidence. "How long will it take to get there?"

"You never told us to take you anywhere, my lady, so we've been walking you around in circles," another voice said, and the men around her burst into laughter when her cheeks colored.

Finally understanding the practical joke on her expense, she snapped, embarrassed and trying to make up for her slip, "Take me to my chambers right away!"

Their mirth died completely when they heard her, and their pace quickened - though she could have done without _that_ tidbit. Kakarotto found the strength to keep up with them however, and one mere upward flight of stairs later, they all stopped. Keeping the flaming blush from her face when she realized that they had likely been circling her room this entire time, Kakarotto merely stopped with them.

She heard a door open up, and a woman's voice came flowing out what must have been her new suite, "I wasn't expecting you for another half hour or so, but that's fine. Don't just stand there. Bring the Lady Kakarotto inside."

Swallowing as they practically picked her up, and set her just inside the doorway – as was custom – she curtsied her deepest, and, as she waited for permission to stand up straight, she hoped that she would be _able_ to rise. Custom also dictated that the queen herself would be the one to greet her into her new suite.

The prince was scary enough by himself, but the thought of Kakarotto's new in-laws was bloodcurdling. Her new husband was only the _future_ king, and the current king and queen had been in power for all of her life.

"What's this? Bow lower," when Kakarotto went as low as she dared while keeping on her feet, the queen became silent, and grabbed a fistful of the back of Kakarotto's hair. She winced hard as her face was shoved to the floor, her balance completely lost as she landed in a heap on the floor, "Bow _lower_. You're in the presence of your soon-to-be mother-in-law, _Lady_ Kakarotto, and, as your mother-in-law, I shall always demand the utmost respect from you. Noblewomen like you must act in a manner that does not offend me, the prince, or the king at all times. Understood?"

Swallowing hard, all she could manage was a nod, and then her face was smashed into the floor more.

"What was that?"

"Yes, your majesty," Kakarotto said breathlessly.

"Good," she felt her hand leave her hair, but she didn't dare to relax just yet. "You may rise and enter the room when that ungainly thing allows you to."

Swallowing nothing, she took a deep breath before she attempted to heave herself up, and she congratulated herself when she got onto her hands and knees on the first undertaking. She stayed there a moment to suck in heaps of air before sitting up onto her knees gradually, careful of her back, which felt like it might split in two. Kakarotto then pushed down onto the ground to give herself an advantage, but the action required her to bend forward to touch the floor from which she wanted to push away. Cringing as her back and thighs buckled, she fell forward only to catch herself with her elbows.

Releasing a tired snort, she waited for her trembling body to calm for the most part. After Kakarotto felt like she could endure her protesting muscles, she sat up again, and instead of pushing off from the floor, she lifted a knee up so that her high-heel was as flat on the carpeting as it could tolerate.

With a soft grunt, her calf burned hotly while she strived to get onto both feet. Her hands braced themselves on her thighs, making an effort to keep them steady. Kakarotto wobbled a few times, but was then standing straight, albeit her legs were shaking uncontrollably when she realized it.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped in further before she heard the door shut behind her. She took another heavy inhalation for good measure, and took the blindfold off.

A woman, who was standing a few meters in front of her, pinched her lips together tautly, and then snapped her fingers. Wearing what looked like a mammoth version of her traveling garb she held herself as if she were a legend that had been reborn, "Get that sweaty thing off of her. She must be cleansed completely. Wash her face, her neck, her hands, her feet, and her tail – scrub down to the bone if you need to in order to get her clean. I will _not_ hear my son complain to me about a stinking, clammy princess." She snapped her fingers again, and Kakarotto finally saw the other women in the room whom had been unnoticeable up until she had stopped talking.

The treatment was not so much different from other times that the maids of the Lord's estate had to wash and clean her. Kakarotto had learned quickly that if she squirmed or resisted, the unpleasant acts would just take longer, and thus, she kept quite still.

Since they were just stripping her at that point however, she inspected her surroundings during the few minutes it took for them to unclothe her.

The rich blue carpets covered the entire floor of the atrium – the size of which seemed like the size of her parents' house. She had never seen a room covered in carpets with such extravagance. Some of the rooms of the Lord's estate had carpeting, but those rooms were smaller, and the larger rooms – like the dining and ballrooms – had only hardwood or even marble floors.

Buttressing her psyche for whatever shocks were in store for her, she looked at the walls of the foyer, and ended up turning a gasp into a somewhat more heavy breath of air.

She did not have walls, but portraits. All three frescos were stunning depictions of what court life must really have been like. The largest wall – which curved outward into a half-circle – showed two Noblemen dueling, and the remarkable colors of their energy beams seemed to give life to that point of time in their battle.

Abruptly, her view was blocked by an alien woman with soft lavender skin and a shocking pink mane of strange skin flaps for 'hair.' As the slaves were still undressing her from all of the hefty petticoats, she could only tilt her head to the side questioningly.

"I'll order the walls scrubbed clean for a fresh look of your choosing. Do you want the carpet ripped up too?"

Her stomach nearly leapt out of her mouth upon hearing her talk about ruining a carpet that nice. At her parents' house, there was one rug, and it was given the best treatment. It was taken out of the closet only on feast days and holidays, and it was one of her family's treasures, "Ah – no. No, the carpet is fine." She glanced over at the mural of the fighting Nobles, "And … and I like that painting."

The alien looked at it as if she hadn't realized it was there in the first place, "It's so old-fashioned now. That was painted back when the Queen Consort had been the _Princess_ Consort. That was what? Twenty years now?" She looked at one of the maids who chirped an affirmative, "Yeah, the little prince is twenty now …"

She looked for any sign of the queen only to find that she had skipped out of the atrium some time ago. Sighing, Kakarotto lowered her head more, and watched a slave peel off her lace gloves, "Was she in here long?"

"About three years, I believe, the time it took to conceive and birth him. It was only a few months later when the king's father crowned him."

"I see," she said, lifting her head up with some measure of difficulty. "Perhaps I'll keep the one wall, and have the other two changed. I want something simple so that I will have the time to enjoy it."

"Don't you mean that you want time, my lady?" Startled by the odd question, she turned to the alien who tried to soothe her, "My lady, don't fret so. You will have plenty of time to enjoy yourself when you're here, so don't worry about-"

Though she had no real pompousness or noble pride about herself, she did feel her pride as a Saiyajin sting, and it reared its ugly head as she listened to the strange alien slave, "Are you" – she nearly spat her next word out, disgusted – "_pitying_ me? Get out. Get out!" The alien had only hesitated a lone moment, but Kakarotto's patience had broken into pieces when the guards had played their joke. At least, _they_ had been of her species!

After the alien dashed out of the suite, she realized that the maids had paused in their orders to stare at her while others were looking at the door through which the alien woman had left.

She waited a while before she murmured faintly, "Well?"

They nearly leapt to finish their orders, and no one bothered to talk to Kakarotto about the imminent wedding again. Going back into holding still for them, she was soon in the nude, and they led her deeper into the suite, leaving the atrium to enter a type of sanctum. While she would greet visitors to her suite in the foyer, this room seemed to be where she would entertain. The room was as large – if not larger – than the public bathhouse that she and her family would frequent.

Passing this room, the maids brought Kakarotto into an adjoining room, which she immediately realized was her sweat bath. While the sweat bath of the Lord's estate encompassed her old house, the gorgeous sweat bath in front of her took in the house and their yard. As they sat her down in front of the steaming pit, she wondered if she would ever have to entertain in the sweat bath chambers.

Unable to relax even while on the bench, she just watched the maids tend to the small fire. It seemed to have been prepared ahead of time for her so that the stones positioned over the burning wood would be hot enough. The room was actually already filled with a sweet smelling steam. She recognized the scent as a rare tree that grew in the desert in the far northern region of the planet, and she curled her toes in delight. Finally, when all was in preparation, one of the maids took the task of keeping the steam about by pouring the scented water onto the rocks to make the vapors. The several other slaves gathered around her, asking her to stand – which she did – and started to scrape away the sweat when it appeared with flat crescent-shaped gold pieces. After a while of this, a maid picked up an exfoliating bar and began to scrub her fingers while another had her sit so she could do the same with her feet.

The tickling sensation of her feet caused her to smile a bit, but she kept herself still as they rubbed off rough dead skin. Someone took a softer bar, and rubbed her face, searching for any dead skin that had compiled there. A larger soft bar was used to scrub up and down her body, leaving _almost_ no skin untouched. After they were done scouring her dead skin, she was asked to stand again before they scraped away the skin and the sweat on her body that had accumulated since they started.

Kakarotto saw two of the maids standing to the side, and murmuring to themselves as they looked over her nude body as if trying to decide something. After some kind of debate, the two departed only to return with the queen.

The older Saiyajin woman took one look at her, and claimed, "Yes, wax off that undergrowth down there. And make sure her legs are bare as well." Her lips twisted in distaste as she seemed to think of something, "And any other hair lower than her waist. It's unbecoming."

'_Wax?'_ She yelped in shock when the maids pushed her down, and yanked her knees apart. Her eyes nearly took in her entire face when she felt the maids apply something hot to her nether regions, and then it was ripped off. Biting down onto her tongue, she bore through the ungodly torture, wondering when they were going to start interrogating her.

They put her upright when they finished, and she swallowed nothing when she saw that the queen had been watching the whole thing, "Good job." Snapping her fingers, the queen then pointed at her, "Now finish scraping off that sweat. She must be fitted for her wedding gowns before the tailors can make them. Then we'll have her bundled up in time for the ceremonial dreaming." She tilted her head just so, and, despite the queen looking straight at her, Kakarotto knew that she wasn't really talking to her at all. The whole manner about her was too haughty, "And you will inform me of your dreams upon your waking. The deeds of your reign will be determined there."

---

Kakarotto had not slept. After they had laid her down into the huge bed of her new bedroom, she just stared at the ceiling as her mind raced. The two sweat baths she had taken that night served to expel most of the toxins that made her ill in the first place. Yet this new sickness was caused by the anxiety that had begun to grip her.

She had already determined that if it were the queen giving out the orders, the slaves would have no problem causing Kakarotto any and all discomforts. Whenever the queen was gone, they did as they were commanded while keeping the bride cozy.

This unsettled her deeply given that she didn't believe that the queen liked her very much. She assumed that she wouldn't like it either if her own son were being given into some other woman's care, but this odd form of initiation was grating, and Kakarotto was certain she was failing in some manner.

The bed was soft, and, on any other night, she probably would have dropped immediately into slumber, but this was not just another night. Kakarotto didn't think she would be able to sleep ever again after this.

Her eyes went straight to the door when she saw a line of light enter the room. Swallowing nothing, her eyes went to the timepiece to determine the time. The queen had said she would return to hear of her dream in three hours, but the hour on the timepiece was merely an hour away from that third hour. She sat up, and her heart – which had already been hammering away – was beating so erratically that she knew the entire palace could hear it if they listened.

"Who's there?" She whispered.

A man entered.

Going very still, her arms tightened around herself, keeping the blanket close to cover her bare body aptly. She was not embarrassed by nudity by any means; however, she doubted that she could freely show herself off since she was to become a prince's wife and concubine.

He slipped in near to her, even going so far as to kneel onto the bed, and then he leaned over her. Kakarotto's hand that was hidden in the blankets gripped into a fist as she waited for the intruder to make a move.

"So you're my bride." If anything, his words made her fist become tighter as her stomach went through a dozen loops at once. "You're supposed to be sleeping, you know." Her mouth creaked open, but her throat was abruptly parched. She could only manage a soft exhalation that made him grunt in repugnance, "How do you expect to be able to stand next to me as my wife if you can't even speak to me? I knew it. You're as worthless as they come."

"No," she said finally, her anger surfacing, "I'm not. I'm not worthless."

"Excuse me? If I say something, then you should view it as fact."

"Get out," she saw his eyes widen in the scant light from the other room since he had not shut the door. Clenching her fangs together, she waited for him to leave her alone. Instead, his eyes narrowed into slits before he straddled her lap. Terrified, Kakarotto wrenched him off her, her whole body pulsing with blood that had just run cold, and drained from her face. "Stop it! No! Get off of me!"

He landed on the floor beside the bed with a growl, and he sat up to grab her face, almost tearing her head off when he made her look at him, "You will respect my word. You are worthless, and always will be. It's a good thing you aren't the slut I envisioned too though. After all, your little sister spread her legs quickly enough for me."

She supposed that was intended to be an insult, and she did become motionless in shock due to his words and their phrasing, but she almost laughed.

After all this time, the money and tutors that Lord and Lady had invested in her to protect their daughter had come to naught in the end. The prince had apparently moved in on their cherished daughter during one of the visits made by the Royal Family.

There were several ways to avoid breaking the virgin's seal, and still allow the prince the luxury of having the real Kakarotto spread her legs. For one, the oral pleasures were wide open to them, and for another, if he had only entered her just far enough to not tear her hymen. She finally snickered, and would have covered her mouth with her hand if his hand hadn't been over it already.

"What?" He asked, and his grip tightened, but she pulled away, stifling her laughter with her own hands. "What's wrong with you? … What – what did she tell you?"

Shaking her head, she then looked at him before her giggles increased, "No … no, nothing …"

The prince snarled, large fangs snapping as he seethed, "She must have or you wouldn't be laughing! You two bitches were making fun of me, weren't you?"

"No," she said hurriedly, trying to appease him, but the smile wouldn't go away, "No, we weren't. I mean, I'm not … We never did!"

His growl intensified, serving to make her smile vanish, and she truly began to dread her part in the whole affair. After all, her husband-to-be really did appear to be what everyone had informed her of – a monster. His claw of a hand clasped over her shoulder, shaking her hard, "How dare you! You and that stupid bitch of a sister will pay for your insolence! You will _not_ mock my prowess in the bedroom. What dirty whores you both are! I should check right now to make sure that you're still a virgin since you're so filthy." His fangs gleamed in an unholy smile then, "But the testing in front of the entire Royal Court will show whether you're a slut or not." She was pushed back onto the bed, and he spat out, "Sleep well, my princess."

Kakarotto was still trembling when the queen entered, and she looked the younger woman over several times before she grimaced, lips pursing in thought. "So did you sleep well?" She nodded automatically, mind racing for what she might tell her, but all she could think about was of the testing in front of the Court with which the prince had teased her. "Well? What did you dream of?"

Shaking her head that time, she clutched herself tighter, "It wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare. A monster came in and raped me."

The older woman's eyebrows lifted several centimeters up her forehead before she descended down onto her, slapping her, "I am not telling the council that, girl. Have another dream."

"What?"

"Do it, have another dream. Tell me another dream." When Kakarotto could only gape at her, the queen stood up straight, glaring down at her, "Tell me _something_, girl, or you won't see moonlight again."

"He …" she lowered her head, which was swimming with confusion over the events of the past few hours. How did one simply _have_ another dream while they were still awake? Was the prince supposed to have been there? "A man … went to a palace, and he asked … he begged for money to feed his hungry family. That was my dream." _Please, let me wake up now._

"That's it?" She asked, uninterested in anything else, "That was your entire dream?"

"Yes, that's all the dream was about. He wanted food for his pregnant mate because he didn't have anymore options before she wasted away."

"An interesting dream for the heralding of a wedding, but we'll see what the Court thinks of it." She glanced down at Kakarotto's lap before she tore off the blanket, "… Good, there's no blood. Come now. Your first wedding gown is complete, and you must have another sweat bath before you put it on. You got your sheets soaked almost entirely through."

---

_In response to all the people wondering when I'm going to update "Up for Interpretation," I have this to say …_

_XP Whenever I damn well feel like it._

_So yeah, it's definitely not over yet, and this story isn't something else that I'm writing because I'm done with "Up for Interpretation." I'm not done with that one yet. I'm still trying to think of a good way to end it._

_Oh, and, _Suisheu,_ if you take out all of the commas, how much sense do you think that this whole thing would actually make?_

_Exactly._

---


	3. The Wedding

**Live Well**

_Chapter Two: The Wedding_

It was only an hour later when she was brought down in all of the finery of the First Gown, and she would have been stomping on all sorts of feet to dash away. Everything, even the earrings and tail rings they had placed on her were heavy. She had a corset, three bodices over it, eight petticoats made of thick ruffled lace, and an over coat to wear over it to finish the look. Her petticoats were all visible in the front due to the upside-down v-shape that the light blue overcoat made.

The sequins – golden coins through which holes had been pierced – had been threaded up and down the sleeves of her overcoat, along the collar, and the hem. Huge coins had been sown in to use as buttons as well which kept her overcoat shut.

Kakarotto felt as if she would crumple onto the floor in a heap at any moment due to its sheer weight. Another reason for this need to fall stemmed from the first ceremony of the wedding. She was not averse to dancing – in fact, she danced rather well – however she was not certain that she could dance with a man that had proved to her how cruel he actually was.

From what she could tell, he would dump her on the side of the road as soon as the wedding was over.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the queen – in a black gown with black and gold petticoats this time – grabbed her chin, and made her look at her. "Hold still," she said as she lifted up a headdress, placing it precariously over the rounded part of her hair. Suddenly she remembered Radittsu once comparing her hair to a sunrise he had seen once. The sun had been peeking just over the hills, and the rays had been so fierce that he couldn't stand to look at it for long.

Kakarotto missed him, she realized, but she didn't yet feel sad. Though it had been the longest night of her existence, she knew that she had quite a few more to go before they got tired of her. She wondered if she would not be able to sleep those nights either, though her exhaustion caused her to want to collapse to the floor and pass out into sleep within the minute.

The queen led her into the first room where the children of the Nobles were present. The incredible size of the room – and the sight of the thrones down at the far end of it – made her figure that it was a ballroom where Royalty would be able to entertain many guests at once. On the dais where the thrones sat, she could see an orchestra, likely there for the dance that would take place after their greetings.

The first ceremony demanded that the bride and groom greet the children of friends, allies, and family, and introduce themselves to them separately. Upon remembering the prince, she looked up from the smiling, little faces to see him on the other side of the room. With a hard swallow, she noticed that the man standing beside him must have been his father. King Vegeta was a head taller than his son was, and the man was garbed splendidly in dark blue armor, the usual spandex of soldiers replaced with black silk shirts and dress pants. The prince wore a lackluster red set, which somehow accented the dark lines of his face.

At every child she stopped at, she always seemed to see him out of the corner of her eye, getting closer and closer with every little dip and bow to the child in front of them. She would say her name, listening to the chirps of the little girls that she had to introduce herself, and, on the other side of the room, she could hear him and the boys.

She was suddenly bowing to the last girl child, and turned to come face-to-face with the prince. Without a word he offered his hand to her, and, for a wonder, she actually took it without stomping on his foot and running away. "Boys," he said then, turning around, and gently guiding her with his hand on her waist to stand beside himself before he bowed, "This is my bride, the Lady Kakarotto of Afafal."

As the boys bowed back, she curtsied to them, listening to them respond, "Good morning, Lady Kakarotto."

She nodded, and turned, allowing the prince to face the girls himself. When she saw that he had done so, she smiled at the girls with a bow, "Young ladies, this is my fiancé, the Prince Vegeta."

_My fiancé,_ she suddenly thought, not even hearing the girls say their greeting to him. _He's my fiancé … mine._ Kakarotto straightened with Vegeta, standing with him as she watched the children form a circle around them, finally breaking etiquette to stand with friends or even betrotheds. Heeding the sound of the orchestra, she took Vegeta's other hand, and they instantly went into their dance.

Kakarotto wasn't entirely sure if her feet even touched the ground. Their dance was supposed to represent a fight or a duel, but it did not feel like any kind of fight that she had been in before. Yet only moments into their dance, the prince abruptly began speaking to her, "You can't kick me out tonight, my _lady_, and you definitely won't be laughing after I get a hold of you. I promise you that."

Horrified, she stared up at him as her mind reeled, and tried to think of something to spit back that was just as nasty before she bit her tongue, "… I wasn't laughing at you."

His lips pressed tightly together as he very nearly glowered at her. With his hands on her waist, and grasping her hand, his grip tightened hard, "You're already on thin ice with me, so don't push it. If you lie to me again, I'll sell the use of your cunt to the highest bidder every night, and let them have their way with the filthy thing."

"I have _never_ laughed at you, my Prince," she insisted, and he blinked in some confusion – his anger almost gone as he stared at her.

"You didn't even hesitate. Either you are a bigger slut than I imagined or you're telling the truth." He grinned toothily at her when an offended appearance came over her face, "I'll think about selling your services to the guards then. If you even _think_ about dishonoring me, then the betting will be on, and there will be no way to save your cunt from them." The hand on her waist changed position, stroking up her side to glide up past her still developing breasts, and then fisted into her hair. It was an almost tender act for a Saiyajin, but she didn't think that he meant to be tender to her when she felt the fist in her hair grow more taut, pulling at her hair a bit.

Kakarotto's eyes were wide with terror, not quite ready to stand up to his cruelty just yet. She couldn't determine whether she would ever get used to it before he finally divorced her. Was he bluffing or just playing with her poor little head? To make matters worse, near the end of the dance ballad, the prince leaned down to kiss her.

The girl had never been kissed on the lips before, however kisses to her cheeks and forehead were common from her father and mother – and sometimes her brother when he wasn't annoyed with her – so the touch of his rough lips to hers almost made her back away. If it hadn't been for his fist tightly clenched into her hair, she might have attempted it though. He leaned into the embrace, sucking on her unresisting lips and tongue, and Kakarotto could only blink and stare up at his face – dark eyes closed.

When he pulled away at the very end of the song, he created a soft disappointed sound, eyes slightly narrowed as their eyes met, and then he pulled away, walking briskly back to his father. Kakarotto could do nothing else but return to his mother, striving not to touch her lips or imagine that he poisoned her in some way.

Upon exiting the ballroom, the queen asked, "Did he make you hot?"

"'Hot?'" She murmured, and cast her eyes up to peer at the older woman, "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. That kiss he gave must have done something for you."

Kakarotto said unsurely, "Well, it's definitely made me think …" _It's made me wonder why he even bothered! What's the point in a marriage that is bound to fail? He might be my fiancé, and he might be allowed to kiss me, but if he practically tells me that he's going to kill me, why even do it?_

---

"How was it?" His father asked nonchalantly, and Vegeta frowned over at him before he shrugged, not very interested in the question.

The prince just walked on down the hall beside his father silently, admiring some pieces of art before noticing another piece of art that was currently bent over on her knees, washing something up from the floor. When she looked up and noticed him, he recognized her by her large, generous lips, and a smile curved slowly on his face before he remembered that he would be married in only a few hours. This in turn, made him recall the little slip of a girl in the wedding gown with whom he had danced, "She didn't do anything – she just stood there."

King Vegeta murmured nothing under his breath before looking at him, "Most Noblewomen get mixed signals about marriage and sex. I can't even _remember_ how many of my wives were like that at first. You'll just need to teach her how to reciprocate in kind until she proves what she's made of."

"What a hassle," he said, and began to strip away his armor, wondering whether his second outfit for the wedding was prepared yet. Vegeta tossed it to the side when he entered his dressing room, not bothering to watch a slave as he lurched to the ground after catching the armor.

He slumped back into a chair in the corner of the room, tapping his foot while peering out through a window. The view showed him the expanse of the training courtyard for the Royal Guards. They had been placed under his charge after the date of the wedding had been decided – as was the custom. His fist clenched into a tight ball as he recalled all of the thrills of his achievements.

It was true that his mother had to care for him until his power level had reached the right peak, but even before then, she had let him loose around the palace to do whatever he so liked. If he had met with any opponent that might actually do him harm, he had been instructed to run back to her heavy skirts. His eyes softened as he imagined the soft, scratchy lace of her petticoats, and he remembered laughing while he had ducked in under all of the capacious gowns. He had been happy then, and Vegeta was happy currently as well – even when he had all of the responsibilities that were placed upon him. The ascendance of 'little prince' – as Grandmother had called him – to 'Prince Vegeta' had been one of his greatest triumphs.

His only real problem was now the little girl prancing around in the traditional wedding garb of his Royal House. As his wife, she would be subject to all the horror of his world, and she didn't even look like she would be able to handle stepping outside of her suite. Vegeta's lips twisted into a sneer when he recalled that he had to look for a eunuch to become her manservant and bodyguard. What a carefree living she would have compared to him – she would mull over how far to bow to his parents and grandparents, teach the Noble women on how to become useless, and then lounge about while carrying his heir.

The thought of his heir brought a grin to his lips however. Surely, she would fail in someway so that he could implant a new wife with his seed instead. He had no illusions that this Kakarotto would be the mother of his heir. With the way things were going, he knew that the little twit would be long gone, and he would be that much closer to his true heir.

He smirked, _Even if she does manage to live long enough to birth a male child for me, nothing will ever prepare her for the Saiyajin Princess' gravest duty afterward._

---

The second gown pinched everywhere, and she attempted to move as little as possible while inside of it, internally groaning. Kakarotto suppressed her sigh, knowing it would merit movement, and turned to the queen when she called for her. Stopping in front of her, she almost winced when the queen began to pat over her torso and down her legs before standing and nodding.

She relaxed only a margin as she followed the queen down the hallway. This next ceremony was not one that she was familiar with since it was a custom of the Royalty only. From the severity of her dress and the hectic way that the slaves had been acting, this ceremony didn't just appear to be more pomp and rituals that were added in on a whim by strict Royals. Something was happening that Kakarotto didn't quite understand, and it unnerved her.

Yet she worried more over the things that she did know about – there was no point in fretting over something of which she was not yet aware. For all she knew, it was just more dancing. However, she couldn't _dream_ of dancing in the silver gown that she was in.

The queen stopped in front of a pair of doors, only to turn to her, and whisper fiercely, "Do not say a word." Kakarotto was ignored afterward, and the queen opened the large doors.

Keeping her head high, she was then led into another ballroom, and she clenched at her skirts a bit more tightly than she had before. In the middle of the room was a fountain, and it was filled to the brim with a green liquid substance, and right beside it was a long couch with a golden rod resting on it. As she went still while staring in confusion at these things, she saw motion to her left, and looked up to see the prince standing beside her. His grin chilled her as he offered his arm to her almost congenially, but all she could do was take it, breathing rapidly as he took her down the flight of stairs from the doors to the ballroom floor.

Kakarotto only barely registered the Nobles that were watching the proceedings. He picked up the golden rod, and, with a small flourish, the prince suddenly twirled her as if they were dancing, dipping her back onto the couch. Her eyes grew wide as she gazed up at the man, apprehension eating away at her when he began to tear at the lovely silver gown. While the Second Gown was being stripped away from her, she glanced around the room, nearly sweating a river when her flesh was bared to them all.

The prince lifted up the rod over his head then, and it glinted dully in the lamplight above them in the chandeliers. When he seemed sure that everyone was silent and all eyes were on him, the rod, and the naked woman on the couch, he said, "Here, the Royal Court will oversee the testing of the Lord Nuches' loyalty. Whether he has sold only to the Royal House or whether he has sold the bride to others as well." He directed his eyes toward her eyes, and she paled when he knelt at the end of the bed that her feet were facing. Grabbing her ankles, he dragged her down to him, and she attempted to close her thighs tightly, fearing the worst. Abruptly, he brought the rod against her hip, causing a yelp of pain to come to her lips, "If you struggle one more time, you will have proved that you have something to hide."

Not even letting that sink in, he dragged her closer again, but she understood the gist of it, and kept as still at her quavering form would allow her. Bracing herself when she saw him coat it with the syrupy green liquid that was in the fountain, she then felt the cool rod against the apex of her thighs, and she clutched at the fabric of the long couch. Wincing when he pressed it inside, she tore her eyes away from it, attempting to look anywhere but at what he was doing – though she could feel it quite clearly.

A sudden pressure made her eyes widen in panic before she looked up into his eyes. The prince actually seemed surprised to find her hymen there, strong and whole, before he jerked the pole in past it. Her entire body jolted with the shock, tears springing to her eyes. Surprisingly, the pain had not been as great as she had heard, but the shock factor contributed greatly to her tears. She panted and squeaked softly in pain as he moved the rod in a bit deeper, and then he circled it inside of her rather roughly, tearing up more of her hymen in the procedure. Kakarotto clenched her fangs tightly as she waited for him to finish, unable to face that smug appearance that had come over his face.

When he pulled the rod out, he made a great show of revealing the blood, and stood upright, "The Lord Nuches' loyalty has proved true! Bless him for he has offered to his prince a virgin." The prince turned around to look down at her, "And bless you for no man's flesh has broken you, so you shall forever remain a virgin." He offered his hand to help her rise, and she took it with a hard swallow, badly shaken.

Someone touched her shoulder, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt it, but relaxed when she saw that it was the queen. Eyes hard, she said, gesturing to the fountain of green liquid, "To live well for herself, Lady Kakarotto of Afafal must lay in this regeneration fluid." Kakarotto went still in understanding.

The regeneration fluid must have been why the breaking had not been as painful. Its numbing qualities had eased the majority of her torture even while not being stimulated by the electric waves of regen-tanks.

She sucked in a gasp when the king was suddenly beside her, breaking her train of thought, and he put a hand on her other shoulder, "To gain a new name for herself, Lady Kakarotto of Afafal must pray in this regeneration fluid."

Then, the prince wiped the tears from her eyes, and she gaped, nearly offended that he had done it as if it were only part of the ceremony! Kakarotto knew already that this was so, but his odd aloofness affected her too deeply. She took a deep shuddering breath as he tilted her head up by the chin as if to show her to everyone better, "To become what she must be for herself, Lady Kakarotto of Afafal must pray."

She held her breath, one hand clinging to his shoulder when the prince lifted her up into his arms, and then felt the air rush out of her in shock when he lowered her into the cool liquid of the fountain. As he sat her down inside, the level of the regeneration fluid reached her chest, and she was about to lower her head to pray, but then the prince pressed his hand over her head to push her backwards inside.

Grappling against him only momentarily, she opened her eyes under the regeneration liquid, quite used to sitting inside of a regen-tank. He raised an eyebrow at her when she tried to get out again when her air was running low. Kakarotto nearly pouted up at him, but restrained the act, and opted to release the air from her lungs slowly. She nearly choked when she breathed in the regeneration fluid; however, she forced herself to inhale quickly. The fluid used in the regen-tanks was breathable, and the mask often used in the healing procedure was usually only for comfort purposes. Comfort had never been a priority when treating common peasants, so she and her family had to learn to breathe in the tank's fluid while they were suspended inside. It had come to be so much easier that she had refused the hefty, hard breathing masks that more advanced regen-tanks possessed.

Some time after she became used to using the thick liquid as air, she watched the prince finally pull away, and it almost seemed like permission to rise again when she was finished, but she held back, staring at him through the inky green substance. Kakarotto almost raised her hand up because it looked like she was peering up at him through glass, and _he_ was the one suspended in regeneration fluids. While the solution crept into small crevices of her body, she spread her legs a margin in hopes that the fluid would come in to soothe her still sore womanhood.

The thought made her pause to reflect, _Am I a woman now? I have no hymen any longer, yet … I still haven't embraced a man in his sheets._ She looked up at the prince, and pursed her lips in her pondering, hardly noticing the furrow of his brow – that appearance was always there after all. _And he called me a virgin still … I have to join with this man tonight though._ What they had instructed her to do while within the fountain came back to her, and she scowled more, seeing his eyes widen in slight indignation. _Why should I pray when I don't have a chance? I might enjoy the nights under his covers, but what will happen after he tires of me? He doesn't look like he even wants a wife. Why is **he** going through with this?_

She chewed her tongue, biting into it to make it bleed, and then let the fluid numb the bite mark, actually able to feel the cells stitch together. It comforted her marginally. As she tried to view the healing of her tongue by sticking it out as far as she could, she noticed his eyebrow twitching out of the corner of her eye. _We're going to be husband and wife soon anyway though. Can't we try to make the most of it?_ After a moment, she let her tongue back into her mouth so that she could gaze up at him again. He didn't look very thrilled about her prolonged immersion within the fountain. _I'm … I'm marrying him while the Lord's daughter stays safe at home. If she has that feeling of security, can't I feel some form of that too? I would need to work hard to gain that though, but at least …_

Swallowing some of the fluid while she thought, Kakarotto gazed back at him, and really tried to see him for just a moment.

_You are my fiancé. My husband …_ _Did they think that I would go around and be their daughter for them though? I may not have wanted this lot in life, but I'll be damned if I just go around saying that I'm someone that I'm not. I'm not their daughter. I am a commoner, and I am …_ Her jaw set firmly, hands fisting at her sides as her mind began to rage. The prince's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nothing, still watching her frame in the liquid, and then she recognized the paler shade of green that he had become. Kakarotto's eyes trailed down to inspect her frame, seeing her tail, which had coiled around her waist sometime during all of her fright. Slackening her tail, she smiled faintly before firmly pushing it aside.

She breathed in deeply before expelling as much of the fluid as she was able. That done, she stood up inside of the fountain, striving to be silent while she gulped down fresh air to replace the regeneration liquid. The prince took her hand when she reached for it, and he carefully led her out. Taking extra precaution due to her slick feet, Kakarotto walked beside him until the two of them stopped in front of the king and queen.

The older woman smiled serenely, lifting her chin up, "You have survived well thus far, Lady Kakarotto."

They only had to wait a few moments after that before the king raised his hand, "You are now our pride and privilege – our Honored Princess Consort of the House of Vegeta. We hope that your conception shall also bring strength and dignity to our House."

"My dear Princess Kakarotto," the prince raised her hand to kiss her palm before he said, "I shall clothe you within your station." He let her come closer to grasp his arm more firmly than she had before, and they walked to the exit of the ballroom. Almost the very moment that the heavy doors shut behind them, he wrenched on her arm, tightly clasping her wrist, "What the hell were all of those faces you were making? Do you think this is funny?"

Frowning at him was his only warning before she yanked her arm away from him. At the sight of his astonished face, she smiled while her stomach told her how dangerously she was currently acting by turning. "Of course. This is all one big joke."

He jerked in surprise before he looked her up and down. For her credit, Kakarotto didn't move a muscle when his eyes lingered to inspect choice bits of her bare-naked body. Tilting his head to the side when his eyes met with hers, he smirked, "It's the biggest fucking joke of my life, but …" his left eye twitched, "You will not disrespect me like that again. Next time that you stick your tongue out at me, I'm cutting it off, and eating it as a side dish." Raising her chin up proudly, she walked toward the door that she had changed her gowns in, and he followed close behind her. She noticed a quick flash of brown, and tensed when she realized that it was his lashing tail. The prince came up close, leaning in as his hand rested on her waist, and he murmured when she stopped in front of the door, "And you need to stop swinging what you think are hips. Skinny fifteen year old girls don't interest me."

"So don't look at me," his hand jolted before it tightened, and his other hand clasped onto the other side of her waist. Kakarotto went still, remembering how naked she actually was before she yanked the doors open to enter the room full of slaves. He would not dare to try anything in there – even in front of slaves. To her luck, his parents were also waiting for them inside, and she relaxed considerably when they frowned at the hands on her hips, so he lifted them off her. The queen took her wrist, and dragged her over to where the slaves were waiting with another splendid heavy gown.

She pointed at Kakarotto, "Clean her up, and get her in that dress within ten minutes. The guests are waiting for their final greeting."

The king yawned, apparently bored as he talked to the prince, "Is the buffet set up yet?"

"They had most of the tables ready, and the kitchens were stocked full with cooking food. I think we'll be good to go," he answered, and then peeled off his wedding coat, tossing it and most of his other clothes away until he was simply wearing a black spandex under suit.

"Queen Arba," a slave said as Kakarotto jerked to attention, stopping with the slaves in front of a sweat bath, "we won't be able to get the regeneration fluid out of her hair in a sweat bath."

"So put her under a spray of water to rinse it out. I won't have her smelling like she's bathed in her own filth like some commoner." The queen turned up her nose at the thought, "Hurry up! Nine minutes!"

Kakarotto followed the slaves into the sweat bath, and was pulled into some kind of stall where she watched a slave turn metal knobs. She gasped when hot water abruptly poured over her from above, and two slaves entered the stall to start scrubbing briskly at her hair, applying scented oils that were rinsed out quickly. When they pulled her out and into the steaming sweat bath, she was bug-eyed and confused by the strange phenomenon. She sat down on the bench in a daze, absently noticing that the prince was in the sweat bath as well, and had just completed his cleaning for the final greeting. He rose, and opened his eyes from whatever meditative state he had been in only to smirk at her.

He left with several slaves trailing after him, and she sighed before beginning to yawn. She had traveled more than half of the night, nervous and trembling as if awaiting death, and the only time that had been given to her for sleeping had been wasted on even more worry. For the past couple of months, all she had been able to think about had been the wedding, hardly sleeping at night or in the day, and now that it was almost over, she merely wanted to find a nice cot to sleep within eternally. Kakarotto yawned again not more than several seconds later, and she started in surprise when the queen was standing before her, snapping her fingers, "You don't have time to sleep. It's time to get you into your Third Gown now. Come. We have three minutes left."

The slaves and the queen herself had to help her dress in time, and even then, they were doing up the buttons and clasps in the hallway as they walked briskly to another ballroom. Kakarotto had just pulled on one glove when a voice boomed from down the hall, "Our great sovereigns have adopted their first daughter who has become Prince Vegeta's first wife. May their strengths as our future rulers shine through in everything that they may accomplish together!"

Taking her gloved hand while some other maid put the other glove on, Vegeta slowed them both down so that they were walking behind the king. After putting her headdress in place, the queen jogged to join the king's side, and glanced back at them once, but the glance awarded Kakarotto with a strange glimpse of white fangs flashing in humor. She heard the queen whisper to the prince, "The Empress would be so happy to see you dressed as you are now, little prince."

"I'm not a little prince anymore, Mother."

"Nonsense," she smiled brighter, and turned to face the ballroom doors as they waited for the summoning. "You will always be my little prince."

"His Royal Majesty, the Lord General of the Undefeated Army, our Grand Duke of the Saiyajin, our Magnificent Marquess of Vegeta-sei, and Honorable Sovereign of the Northern Galaxy, King Vegeta!" Almost lurching forward, the king yanked open the doorway to stride down the aisle to the thrones sitting up on the other end of the room, the queen right beside him, for the announcer then proclaimed, "Her Royal Highness, our Grand Countess of the Saiyajin, the Beloved Duchess of Vegeta-sei, and Honorable Marchioness of the Northern Galaxy, Queen Consort Arba!"

"His Royal Majesty, our Illustrious Lieutenant General of the Undefeated Army, the Grand Baron of the Saiyajin, and Great Viscount of Vegeta-sei, Prince Vegeta!" The prince paused only long enough to see that the slaves were finished with their work. Her face had not been touched on by paints or powders because the queen had claimed she would not need it. Kakarotto recalled other times that other women had said the same, saying that her large eyes were enchanting, and her thick, black lashes already looked as if they had been coated with mascara. The overcoat she had been decked out in was a deep burgundy that complemented the prince's own dark gray and silver attire, and her petticoats were black instead of the white petticoats she had been wearing before. When the new couple stopped and turned around at the foot of the dais, the announcer shouted when Vegeta lifted her hand high in the air, "Now gladly presented to you by the Royal Prince, this is her Royal Highness, the Majestic Baroness of the Saiyajin, and Gracious Viscountess of Vegeta-sei, Princess Consort Kakarotto!"

She stood taller, smiling beatifically before stepping up onto the dais – led by her new husband. Placing her hand on his after they sat at their own thrones, which had been placed side-by-side, she thought with conviction as she faced the assembly, _I am the princess, not her. _

---

_Uh … XP You know, Chapter One and Two **were** going to be just Chapter One all together, but I found out it was way too fucking long, and right smack dab in the middle was where the wedding actually started anyway, so I just split it in half. XP;;; Aren't you glad I didn't make you sit through nineteen pages of this crap?_

---


	4. The Honeymoon

**Live Well**

_Chapter Three: The Honeymoon_

Vegeta somehow kept his eyelid from tweaking every time that the little princess even so much as looked his way. As the night approached, he began to dread every little nod and bow. The right prayers had been made, the right sacrifices to the gods had been done, and their marriage licenses had been signed. All that was left was breaking her into his bed. The thought nauseated him. At twenty, he was in the prime of his life, and his libido was telling him about all of the lovely maids he could leave bastard children in, but the little girl in the wedding gown beside him was not on his list of something he would like to conquest. He thanked anyone – any god that he could think of that they wouldn't have to check for her blood on the sheets. That had been taken care of in the second ceremony.

He should have felt pride after remembering tearing apart her hymen, and he did, but it was quickly overshadowed by the strange change that had come over his – he sneered – wife. While she had been in the fountain, it had been his duty to watch over her prayers, and he had done so with little thought. The girl had been frightened when she had been lowered inside – of that he was certain – but a few minutes after she had immersed herself within the regeneration fluid, her eyes began to morph. Soft dark eyes had become pinched, and hardened, leaving Vegeta with the impression that something was not quite right with his bride.

Kakarotto had emerged poised and ready, dispelling the fluid from her lungs with the ease of a foot soldier, and the determination to match. He supposed he should have been proud that his first wife was not running away from her duties, but instead he felt something akin to suspicion. The girl on his arm was not the one that he had threatened to sell to the guards only a few hours ago. Whatever had happened between the moments between entering and exiting the fountain had created a stranger.

He had been preparing himself in dealing with a little girl when the time to prove their nuptial status came, however, it seemed that he would have to face a warrior on the battlefield, and his shoulders rankled awfully at the thought of having to wrestle with the skinny tart. Nothing about her aroused him even, and that was the worst part of the deal. Her face was much too plain, and, despite having hoped that the gowns were just covering her up, her naked form was flat and unappealing, making Vegeta wonder if she would ever fill out.

Still he had to fulfill his family's expectations no matter how uninterested he was in his little wife. Yet he still figured it was a waste of time – no matter how much his wife seemed to have changed in a few minutes. With some effort, he drew his mind away from the thoughts of what the night would bring, and turned to a cousin when he approached.

"Brolli," he murmured politely, and nodded his head – acceptable acknowledgement for his eccentric brethren. At the last moment, he recalled he needed to introduce him to his new wife as was proper, and gestured to her, "Kakarotto, this is my cousin, Brolli. Brolli, this is my wife, the Princess Consort Kakarotto." He looked at her briefly, finding that her eyes were latched intently onto the young man before them, and pressed his lips to her hand for appearances – and to make sure that she would remember that she was married now.

Kakarotto's hand tightened on his slightly before giving Brolli a small curtsy, "What a pleasure."

"The honor is mine," Brolli said when she stood up straight, and bowed deeply to her. The smile on her lips was surprisingly gentle, and Vegeta stiffened when he saw it directed at the boy of fifteen years. He would have gripped her shoulder, and yanked her close if she hadn't suddenly looked up at him with the same smile – he merely lifted his chin a bit higher in response, revealing a hint of his gratification that it was his wife with such a grin.

When Brolli went back to his father and betrothed, Vegeta's hand roamed from where it had been resting on her shoulder to her hip, giving her a fleeting rub. The corner of her lips turned downward for a moment as she looked up at him, and he grimaced when he saw that her smile had vanished. In rebellion to her frown, he kept his hand there, grasping her there tighter as he leaned down to murmur for only her ears, "Tonight, I'll do worse things than touch your hip."

"There are no worse things than you touching me," she quipped softly, and then put her hand over his as if it belonged there. "Come now, _husband_, I'm sure there are more people that I must meet with."

Vegeta's tail would have whipped out and struck her in the face for her audacity, but he kept his appendage wrapped firmly around his waist while it only twitched in rage. He had actually found something appealing about her, and not only did she not grant him the right to see it, touching her like a man to his wife made it disappear completely! His grip intensified, and he almost dragged her along to the next family member.

---

She kept her yawn down, and attempted to not just slump up against the prince – her husband, she would correct herself. Keeping her knees from buckling under the weight of her wedding gown, she could only brace herself against the prince enough that she didn't look like she was about to fall on top of him. Her feet hurt, her body ached, there was sweat coated all over her body, and her dear husband had yet to remove his hand from her waist. When he had done that, it had taken all of her will to not topple over or slap him.

It wasn't really his fault that she was exhausted and that the heavy dress was wearing her thin, but did he really have to add onto her worry and fatigue by touching her so fondly? She was still trying to cope with being married at all, but she found that it was hard to concentrate when she was ready to collapse and sleep on the hardwood floor. Kakarotto almost whimpered when she realized that the floor was – indeed – a wood of some kind. What would her parents think of her as she walked over such wonderful floors? Yet she resisted the urge to go down to her knees to better feel the smooth polished wood, and opted to just keep her eyes away from the wide expanse of the floor she walked upon – through she stifled a wince with every step.

Kakarotto was thinking of ways to tell her husband that she would give him an arm, both legs and both of her eyes if he would let her sit down to rest when she saw the king and queen strode toward them. Somehow, she stood taller despite the restrictions made by her gown, and put a hand on her husband's chest for a while to gain his attention. He glanced down at her, and she nodded over at his approaching parents. Lifting her hand to kiss it, he then bowed to the other royals, prompting her to do the same. She curtsied just a few inches deeper than his bow, and rose after he did so.

"Princess," the queen intoned, and offered her a black fan that was folded up. When she took it carefully, the queen whipped out her own black fan, spreading it out to reveal the king's red Vegeta House Crest with three pairs of white and gold feathered wings framing it. Kakarotto snapped to abrupt attention when the queen began to gesture and speak with the fan, **I will teach how you to fan-speak with Royalty.**

Eyes concentrated on her black fan, Kakarotto smoothly opened her own, glancing at it to see her husband's blue House Crest with a golden sand-tornado on either side. She cast a thought to what the Empress' fan might look like, but directed her attention back onto her mother-in-law's fan as she swiftly gestured back, **Thank you. That would please me greatly.**

'**Please you?' **The queen's fan became as if a flutter of black wings as she signaled, obviously infuriated,** I teach you only so you won't make a fool of me in front of our Empress.**

**All the same, thank you. It still pleases me,** Kakarotto's fan shut with a sharp click, aware that the male Royals were staring at her for shutting her fan before the queen did so. She found out where Vegeta got the twitch of his eye when she saw the queen's eye do the same, but Kakarotto just smiled sweetly, and curtsied again.

The queen finally shut her own fan, and then put the fan in a long, slender pocket at the hip of her gown. She batted her lashes up at the king, and murmured, "Thank you for indulging me, my king." The man only nodded, and they left the newly wedded couple alone.

Gripping her wrist after Kakarotto found her own fan-pocket to deposit the gift, he whispered fiercely, "I may not know Noblewomen's foolish fan-talk, but I do know an insult when I see one." When she raised an eyebrow at him, he gritted his fangs in frustration, "Don't play coy with me. You cannot end a fan-conversation if someone you're talking to is of higher station. The only one other than my mother that's of higher station than you is the Empress, bless her."

"Insult? Lord Husband, I was thanking her." _Yes, thanking her for slapping me at least fifteen times today for things that I could not have been prepared for – even had I been a true Noblewoman. It's about time she got a smacking._ She listened to him muttering nothing under his breath before they went on their way again to greet and meet with the rest of his family.

Kakarotto counted down the hours in her head as she staggered beside her husband, desperately keeping her back and legs level. When night came, she knew that she would not mind anything dirty that her husband might do to her – just as long as he let her lay down! She absently heard the orchestra switching into a new song, and swallowed hard when she heard her husband, "This is a good song. Shall we dance?"

She stared at him as if he was mad, and he smirked before he pulled her onto the dance floor. The new princess managed to go into synch with him for a few steps, her heart beating at her ribcage as she strived to keep up with him and the fast pace of the song. It helped that he did most of the moving, sometimes lifting her up into the air to twirl and twist her and then dipping her nearly to the floor, but her blood pounding through her veins kept her hot, and she began to sweat buckets, panting quickly. After one such dip, everything went dark.

---

"Shit," Vegeta guided her carefully down to the floor, groaning at the incompetence of all Noblewomen – whether wedded into Royalty or not. He whipped out her fan after finding it, and began to fan at her neck and face while the guests swirled around them in curiosity. When his parents arrived, he lifted the princess up into his arms, and nodded to them.

"About time," he heard his mother say, and he raised an eyebrow at that mentioning. Looking at his father, Vegeta could see that he was rather used to princesses fainting for no good reason. His mother placed a hand on his shoulder, and murmured soothingly, "My Prince, I think that it would do the Princess Consort well if you would move her to her bed. The day has been long for her." Hearing that, Vegeta held back a sneer, but felt his eye convulse in displeasure. She frowned, "The day has been long. Now put her to bed. With some rest, I'm sure she'll be in fine form for later."

He found himself moving under his mother's stare, and quickly went toward the exit, saying to inquiring allies and family that the Princess Consort was merely tired. His mind exploded with ire however, and was a hairpin away from tossing her out of a stained glass window. _To hell with this skinny thing! I'm a man, and I want a woman!_

"_If you do not do your duties as the prince, Vegeta, then I will stick it in myself!"_

He sniffed upon recalling his mother's words, biting his tongue as he walked down the hallway. If he knew his mother well enough, that had not been an idle threat. Perhaps, he could find himself a scullery maid or even one of his sweat bath slaves to amuse himself with after he did his deed. That brought up the realization that maybe he would be unable to get himself excited enough for the action however, and wondered whether any of the maids had stayed behind in her suite long enough for him to enjoy them. Curling up his lip, Vegeta began to snap at slaves and maids that he saw on the way, telling them to run ahead and prepare the princess suite for their arrival.

Attempting to look for reasons to delay his arrival, Vegeta began to slow his steps down, taking in the sights of a hall that he had never frequented in his lifetime. He knew that his mother had been the Princess Consort when he had been born – a striking difference to his father whom had been conceived when the Empress had been Queen – but he didn't remember this place at all. Only a few months after his birth, his father had ascended to the kingship, and thus his mother had been moved to the Queen's Wing.

Despite never remembering traversing through these halls, it was easy enough to navigate through them since the Princess' Wing was a mirror image of the Prince's Wing – the same as the Queen's Wing was to the King's Wing. The only exception was that the wings of the female counterpart were each half a meter smaller in measurements than their male's wings. He couldn't see the difference in size easily, but sometimes when he loped up a flight of stairs, he could see it better. It was all very precise and much more delicate appearing. He supposed that was to represent the princess' femininity, but, looking down on her, his princess didn't seem very feminine at all.

He fought back the curl of his lip before he saw the little smile that had come over her features in her slumber. Vegeta sighed in frustration that the smile would be gone when she awoke, and muttered under his breath about the tricky little bitch. He would be glad to have a wife that would smile at him when she was conscious – one that would not refuse him the beautiful sight of a simple grin for him.

Clutching her body tighter to his own at the thought, he stiffened when he saw the smile leave her face again, resulting into a more pained expression. His grip loosened immediately, wishing back that smile he had seen for only a few minutes, but his wish went unanswered for her face merely relaxed into a more neutral state, and the smile didn't return. Vegeta even stopped walking; waiting for even the tiny twitch upward of her lips, but he saw nothing.

Damning himself for a fool when he realized what he was doing, Vegeta strode into the Princess Suite quickly, wanting to dump her aside, and grab any maids or slaves that had lingered behind for a show. To his absolute horror, the suite was empty but for himself, his wife, and the enormous bed where he had first met her. With a scowl, he dropped her onto the bedding, and watched her body bounce once before she went still. Groaning, she writhed for a moment on top of the bed, but then went still again.

Lips twisting, he considered arousing her from her sleep, but figured that it would be better if he stripped her of the wedding gown before she woke up to make a fuss about the whole deal. He searched quickly and efficiently for the hooks, clasps, ties, and zippers that held her overcoat and petticoats onto her small frame, and then, as custom dictated, he carefully undressed the sleeping girl, hanging up every piece of her gown as it came off. He brought them into the walk-in closet, and hung it up in the very back of the room so that the maids would see it, and wash it promptly for their anniversary the following year.

Surely, that would be their only anniversary, but it was always good to show nice appearances. He fingered the black petticoats, smiling when the coarse lace brought him back to playing in his mother's skirts as a boy. Ducking in and out of the petticoats while she walked, and then hiding just under the overcoat while she disposed of would-be assassins were simple joys that were no longer available to him as a man. He dropped to his knees to regain the shorter stature of a boy, and buried his face into the thick lace with a grin, recalling all of the incidences where she allowed him to take a nap with her or on her lap so that he could always feel that comforting fabric. Vegeta had often fallen asleep to the sound of her and Grandmother's voices, and the flap of fans.

Thinking of fans conjured the image of Kakarotto being rude to his dear, sweet mother. Vegeta could only dimly remember being told that he had been betrothed. One of his mother's duties had been to find him several prospective wives for when he grew older. Her first choice had been this dainty little thing. He hardly remembered anything about her as a tiny baby, and all that he could remember was that her mane of hair had not yet grown in completely, so she had been nearly indistinguishable from a clod of black dust under his bed. In fact, he remembered calling her just that, and then hearing the gentle laughter of his mother.

His hands, so much larger than they had been as a boy, drifted up and down the heavy skirts, almost purring in delight from the memories that the movements created and the feel. This girl was a replacement for the role that his mother had taken in his life, but he could barely endure the thought of trading in his gorgeous, composed, experienced mother for this young girl. He knew that his reasoning was almost blasphemy, but he could not help but love the woman that had raised and nurtured him into one of the greatest Vegetas that had ever been. Vegeta needed that sense of being adored and loved by such a prosperous woman – how could he _ever_ think of letting her go?

He made the mistake of smelling the lace of the petticoats, and received a lungful of his wife's scent instead of the sweet intoxication of his mother. The odor itself had nothing wrong with it, but it just had not been what he had wanted. Worse, it reminded him of what he had to do when the girl awoke. Forcing away the scent of rare flowers, he tried to summon the sweet scent of rare dark woods, and their ashes with that soft hint of the northern desert sands, and nearly purred.

She would always comfort him, even when she eventually became the empress in Grandmother's place, and he was king. Her duties would take her far away from him – farther than she had ever been before, and all he would have was the woman that his mother had chosen to rule beside him, yet he just wanted her at his side. He laughed softly to himself, _If my father and grandfather could hear where my thoughts are going now, they would tear me apart … Why does this have to be so hard? I know that I'm being foolish. Mother will never be mine … That smile had been Mother's smile though, but she won't let me see it for longer than a moment!_ Looking up, he carefully loosened his sore hands from the dark lace of the petticoats, absently hoping that he hadn't ripped anything, and then got back up with stiff knees to return to his wife's sleeping chambers.

He leaned against the doorframe of the closet to watch her sleep, wondering if he should tuck her in or wake her up to get the whole deal over and done. Tapping his chin, Vegeta looked her up and down, noting that she was shivering from being overheated, and that her nipples were at a sharp point. He forced out a breath of air, and closed his eyes before he rubbed his temples, figuring it would be a lot easier if she had something about her that was even faintly arousing.

Glancing back into the walk-in closet, he looked at the gowns that the seamstresses had been working on non-stop all day, and then at the wedding gown in the far back of the closet. This room had been empty ever since his mother had been promoted to the Queen Consort, but now it was filled to the brim with every gown that was imaginable for a young, stylish princess. Walking back inside, he searched for a gown among all of the black petticoats – a proper color and style for Royal Consorts – corsets, and bodices that might give her small frame some curve. Instead he had walked four steps in before he was fingering the lace of petticoats again, remembering his smaller hands doing the same in his mother's closet. He swallowed nothing, his throat dry, as the memory of stealing a petticoat suddenly invaded his mind, and taking it back to his rooms. He had just discovered carnal desires, and all of the pleasure that had gone along with it. At first, he had only taken the white petticoats of Noblewomen, but he found himself most excited when he closed his eyes, and saw black, so he would take petticoats from her closet whenever her back was turned. As he had become older, to make it even more real, he would dress maids and slaves into the rich gowns, and take them with the rich lace clutched tightly in his fists.

Biting his inner cheek, he grabbed a heavily laced outer petticoat from the hooks, and brought it out to dress Kakarotto inside of it. He thanked the gods that it fit her right, knowing that even some of the petticoats worn on top of other petticoats would only fit a woman after their waist had been squished into a corset. Sighing in relief, he petted the dark lace before he got up to retrieve a bodice that was black in color to clothe her torso in. About half way up, he discovered that he could not button any more for this particular bodice apparently needed a corset under it, however, Vegeta saw that the bodice had pushed her small breasts up enough to display a flair of appeal, and thus, he kept the clothing on her. Swallowing hard at his audacity, he sat back to wait for his wife to wake up, and tenderly stroked the lace.

He saw his downfall when she smiled in her sleep, and Vegeta swallowed nothing as he leaned over her, having every intention to awaken her for their wedding night, but paused as his lips hovered over her ear, preparing to whisper. For a bare moment, he closed his eyes, and smelled the hot desert sands as he continued to pet and feel the rich lace, hearing a sweet voice call for him across the plains. Hesitating as his thoughts led him through forbidden territory again, he looked up at the sleeping face of his wife before he reached for the nightstand to turn out the light.

---

Kakarotto shivered, and curled up into a ball on the bed before she realized that she was awake. Clutching the sheets to herself tighter, she blinked slowly up at the window that revealed the first rising sun, which was green. She yawned and sat up, feeling warm and slick with sweat from the previous night.

Coming to attention, she suddenly couldn't remember returning to her suite for rest. The last thing that she could clearly remember was when the prince had pulled her into a dance at the ball. Had she started to drink alcohol after that? Yet she hadn't been so hot as to try drinking any wine at all – for one thing, it wasn't legal for her yet, and for another, she had a responsibility not to poison any offspring that her husband would …

Her jaw dropped, and she covered her mouth in shock, _If I'm here, and it's morning now … I missed the wedding night! The prince must be furious!_ She covered her face in shame, _Oh, and the king and queen …! I can't believe that I missed something so important!_ Chewing her lip, Kakarotto glanced around the room only to see a slave sitting at the foot of her bed. She sat up straighter, wincing at an odd ache between her legs, and then said, "Is the sweat bath prepared?"

"Yes, my princess. The prince just went inside," the female slave said, her eyes on the floor.

Fingering the edge of her blanket before she flung it off, Kakarotto rose to her feet, but then she faltered when she felt more than sweat between her legs. She looked down at herself, and her ears became dark red when she spied the crimson marks over her breasts, which were peaking out of a small black bodice obscenely. The dark purple petticoat wasn't easy to explain either, and she could feel something crusty on her inner thighs. Looking over into the mirror, she undid the bodice, and pulled off the petticoat only to have her cheeks flame in abject horror, the realization hitting her hard. _Oh, Mama … I either fainted, or drank myself silly last night, and forgot everything! The prince must **really** think that I'm used to this sort of thing if I coupled with him while intoxicated …_

Nevertheless, she straightened her stature, and marched straight to her sweat bath, ignoring the giggle here and there from a slave as she entered. She sat across from him, absently noting the tired, haunted look in his eyes, and swallowed hard. When she heard another giggle from a slave when they scraped the sweat from between her legs, she snatched away a golden ladle, and brandished it at the giggling woman's nose, "Out! All of you!" Astonished, the group of slaves only stared at her, some looking at the prince for directions, but he only stared at Kakarotto patiently. She bared her little fangs, about to snap again before they got the picture, and ran out, the door swinging behind them before one of them had the sense to shut the door before cold air came in.

Attempting to unwind, Kakarotto settled back onto the bench, and then scraped herself clean, ignoring the raise of his brow at her actions. She was scraping sweat from her stomach when she realized that her husband wasn't washing himself, and was still looking at her. Clearing her throat, she sat up straighter, and then glanced down at her breasts which still had those strange red marks all over them. She pursed her lips before she asked, "Was I drunk last night?"

He blinked once before he threw his head back, and laughed, his dark voice echoing in the steaming sweat bath as she gaped at him. The prince slumped forward, his elbows resting on his knees while he chuckled out the last few laughs, and his black eyes glittered in bleak mirth. He said hoarsely, "No, you weren't drunk. I just couldn't bare to touch you while you were awake." Gazing up at her, his lips twisted into a disturbing grin, "You make such cute little noises."

Taking a deep breath, she proceeded to pay no heed to him, but all the while, her heart trembled, unable to believe what he had said, _He just went and … took me in my sleep? What kind of sick bastard does that?_ She frowned at him, but then sighed, _At least he did me a favor. I didn't want to couple with him anyway. Maybe he'll be kind again, and always claim me like that. It … seemed to please him at least, and that's what I'm supposed to do as a wife, right?_ The prince continued to sit there, tapping his foot patiently as if waiting for something, and she took the time to study his brow, wondering why he appeared so nervous, and edgy.

"Aren't you going to call them back in?"

Kakarotto gasped, slightly startled before she shook her head, "I don't want to listen to them giggling about what they think happened last night." When he cocked his head to the side in confusion, she elaborated, "What happened last night was not a wedding night since you weren't doing it with me. You were doing it with my body."

His lips spiraled into a nasty shape, and he barked out hostilely, "I wasn't even claiming your body. I was picturing someone else last night." She became cold as he gritted his fangs, "You were too disgusting to even look at. I kept my eyes closed and kept in mind the woman I truly want as my bride!"

---

_If you don't know what Vegeta was up to that night, you deserve to be shot … Well, you do if you don't know **and** don't review. XP_

_Ah, being a blatant review-whore is fun._

_Oh, yeah, and for those that were wondering, my name on deviantArt is Alastair918._

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	5. The In Laws

**Live Well**

_Chapter Four: The In-Laws_

"These plebeian mites," his father muttered, "look at them, son! Over three thousand years since the great legend – our ancestor – and still they come no higher in strength." He grinned at him, "We will always overpower them – make no mistake of that." Vegeta wondered whether the few screws left over in his father's skull had finally come loose or not. While he treasured the meetings that he had with the generals, his father, and grandfather, sometimes he didn't think that he'd ever take them seriously enough unless his father stopped muttering to himself as he sometimes did.

The prince let his eyes trail down the length of the table to where his grandfather was displayed on the screen. The man was busy at work, writing and signing reports while he would cast his ears and sometimes eyes out to what was occurring in the meeting room. As Emperor Vegeta, his grandfather traveled throughout the galaxy that they had control over, visiting a new planet almost every day with his empress. In fact, he could see her lounging in the background under huge yellow and pink fans of some bird she must have killed that morning – for she was fond of using the freshest things for even the simplest of tasks. _Scratch that,_ he smirked, _she probably killed it this afternoon. The other set of feathers is probably trash by now._

"Prince," he directed his attention to the emperor who was still idly scribbling away at a document, "state all of the planets that are currently rioting within the Saiyajin Empire."

"Kanassa-sei, Cretuy-sei, Wanopuleni-sei, and Est-sei," he said, seeing the empress' eyes brighten as she sat up to pay attention.

"Which is the closest?"

"Kanassa-sei is, sire."

At this, the emperor signed whatever had been written, and passed it along to an aide, murmuring something to him before sitting straight, and staring right at Vegeta, "Do you think that Kanassa-sei poses a threat in anyway toward the mother planet?"

His brow furrowed, suddenly realizing that his recent marriage had just put him in the emperor's eyes. With a new heir presumably on the way, he had to be sharpened in order to be legible for kingship. Once the emperor stepped down – for Vegeta knew his father was no real threat to the emperor's life – the prince would be crowned as King of Vegeta-sei while his father traipsed around with his mother out in the galaxy. In addition, Emperor Vegeta might have been reconsidering his options for heirs – should the prince become raucous, complacent, or just come to know too much too soon, the emperor would either find a way to off him, or do something to punish him should he prove too strong to do the former. It was already too late to get rid of both him and the king for the emperor was simply too busy for the menial tasks of raising another infant King Heir to the throne. The emperor had made that mistake already, and had to know that the Prince Heir would do better in his mistake's stead.

Vegeta looked down at the information of the planet on the vid-screen in front of him, tapping his index finger before he frowned in concern. The Kanassajin seemed to have a rather formidable army, and though they were weaker, their strength in numbers was great. The rebels had the entire army under their command, and they were preparing to recruit other planets into their cause, "If they manage to lure in those other three planets, we could have a serious bloodbath here, and the Kanassajin are a persuasive race. If they gain an ally with the other planets, they'll just come here in force. It _is_ possible," he said when he saw that his father looked like he would object to the idea. "The Kanassajin are friendly with many other planets. If they get even one planet to join them, we can't risk them coming down onto Talji'Be or any other major city. The only way we'd be able to deal with them on Vegeta-sei is in the deep desert with Oozaru forces, but there would be no easy way to lead them out into the open like that. An assault of Oozaru on Kanassa-sei would scour the entire planet though, and make it ready for other inhabitants. We could end it right now."

"What would be most beneficial for the Empire?" His grandfather asked, back to reading through some reports, and then sipped some unidentified drink. Stapling his knuckles, Vegeta studied the few paragraphs that had been made available to him that was on the vid-screen, and his eyebrows lifted substantially when he finished. Curling his hand into a fist, he held back a hateful growl.

"Freeza seems to have wanted it for years. Back during the first rebellion of Kanassa-sei, he tried sending in troops to take it, but the natives proved too much for them." The prince grinned, "And you got mad, and had a talk with them. I remember because they attended my ascension as if they did nothing wrong."

"And one of their subjects tried to record your face after the ceremony. You almost ripped their face off before your mother did it for you," the empress said with a soft smile. Empress Nogao had a round, soft face, and long eyes with lids darkened heavily from black powder. Her thick, pouting lips were black with face paint, and her cheeks bared the symbol of her husband's motif – dark violet snakes coiled to strike. The gown she wore was made of black silk from the rare silk worm of Vegeta-sei. It had been stitched through with glossy white threads to create a spider web-like configuration over the entire overcoat.

He nodded his head to her, grinning when she rose to her feet. No man alive would call his grandmother an old woman – as some of the younger races would assume – for as Saiyajin, their lifespan were in the three hundreds, and his grandmother was only sixty-three. Her youth and beauty was still talked about, and it was no wonder with a face and lips like that. Nogao smiled wider, and leaned in to whisper into the emperor's ear, every little twitch of her lips abruptly seductive, captivating the generals in the room, and drawing their eyes from business to a dark, full mouth. She kissed her husband's temple to his aggravation, and then straightened to nod at her son, "We'll be leaving soon to come and visit. It's been such a long time since our prior reunion." Her lips pouted, and the generals leaned in closer, "Almost since the little prince's ascension. It would be a shame if we didn't come see the new blood."

Grinding his fangs together, he kept quiet, hoping that his grandparents wouldn't notice. Kakarotto had been bundled away that morning, and taken away by his mother. He had wanted to reveal everything to her then, but the maids and slaves were still around, watching everything and everyone, and he definitely did not wish to say anything when his wife was there. Vegeta had already said too much, and that smile was gone completely.

---

Tilting her head to the side, Kakarotto sipped at her tea lightly as she read the pamphlet, almost not believing the bombshell that they had just dropped onto her. Her husband had a metabolic disorder that stunted his growth unless he was fed properly every day, and since they were currently married, it was her duty to make sure that the cooks were preparing the right food that he needed, and that he was even eating it! When she had asked the queen why she would need to make sure he was eating it – for surely a grown Saiyajin man would not mind eating while he was starved – she had been told that, as a boy, he had gotten sick of eating things past his limit, and the annoyance that came with eating passed onto adulthood. It had become a battle every day ever since.

Chewing on her tongue, she thought that through before she rose carefully – the weighted red gown that she wore dragged on the ground to create a meter long train behind her, thus inhibiting her gait. Deathly aware of his mother watching her movements, she approached the doctor, and said after some thought, "I'd like to see his charts. Weight charts, blood charts … do you have any x-rays too?" She paused before she looked at a slave standing at the doorway of the medical bay, "And I need to see the diet plan the cooks have for him." The slave nodded, and left quickly while the doctor spoke with a nurse about the charts that the princess had asked for. Kakarotto didn't look at the queen. Since this diet was her duty, she would have to take pride in her husband's results, and not in what that woman thought of her.

This failure to thrive that her husband possessed was a troubling concept for a leader of the Saiyajin race after all. Though he was of a decent height now, the doctors had predicted that he still had a chance of shrinking into a shorter stature, and that as a child he had been especially small. If they had not caught onto his disease at an early age, the prince would have been very short unless he began to eat better. At present, he was still shorter than average, but the doctors thought that he had more room to grow taller.

Looking over the charts that were given to her, she heard the slave enter in through the door, and held out her hand for the diet plan. The sharp pain in her hand was unexpected, and she looked down at her held out hand to see that a dagger had pierced her palm, and stuck her hand to the countertop. Realizing that she was being attacked, she grabbed the hilt of the dagger with her free hand, and yanked it out before turning around to face a man in black armor, planting the blade into a puckered eye socket. Kakarotto glanced at the queen to make sure she was all right, and discovered that she had not even budged. Kakarotto felt her hand begin to shake, and she grasped the wrist in pain as she bled on the floor, careful to avoid getting any blood on her gown. While she knew that she would not have to worry about getting any bloodstains out of her beautiful gown, she also did knew that her maids would not be appreciative of her carelessness. She jolted in shock when she heard the queen speaking to her, "You should have been more aware of your surroundings, Princess. Since you survived this attack, that's the only advice you'll ever receive."

"Thank you," she finally managed to say, "I was foolish …" _She knew! She knew that he was after me, and she didn't even raise her voice! Not only do I have to survive my husband, I have to dodge death at every corner, and in every room! I'll have no help from anyone on this – I have to be more alert._ Studying the twitching corpse, she looked over at the door – the only entrance and exit of the room – and she said to the doctor, "Make sure he's dead."

The queen only looked at him once, but the glance made her skin become sallow in recognition, "Duke Paragus?" She looked at the princess before she rose to her feet, "It's lunch time. I'm sure your husband is hungry. I must inform the king of our treason here." Eyes wide, she watched the queen sweep out of the medical bay regally, but hurried, and Kakarotto clutched tighter at her hand.

_Paragus … Isn't he one of my husband's cousins …?_ She looked at the corpse to see a doctor snap his neck artfully to at least paralyze if not kill him. The doctors began to bundle up the Nobleman, and she swallowed to loosen her tight throat. Betrayal such as this had to have been a normal occurrence in the palace, yet it was still a high crime. The corpse's family had to be interrogated to determine whether the attack had been a conspiracy to take the throne or if the lord had just been insane. After a moment, Kakarotto realized that it wasn't just her hand shaking, and she went to sit down.

When the doctors peeled off her glove to clean and inspect the wound, she ordered for a new set of gloves to be brought for her – a heavier set. The injury was dressed with a type of reinforced green tape made from regeneration fluid. Its construction made it assume the qualities of a scab, keeping infections out and blood in while it would slowly break away to be absorbed through the skin to help heal the stab wound further. Such tape had been made for smaller wounds that didn't constitute for a long soak in a regen-tank. It was expensive, and even more expensive to make, and – while it was available for the common folk – many couldn't afford to buy it in bulk like Saiyajin really needed.

She flexed her hand carefully after it was wrapped, pleased that the numbing effects were already beginning to work on her. When a slave returned with her new gloves, she put them on carefully, and took a deep breath before she rose up to her feet again, glancing at the charts, "Direct me to the kitchens, I'll speak with the chefs myself." From what she had seen from the charts, he still showed a great deficiency in thiamine and niacin, and she needed to talk to the chefs about it.

---

His stomach growled, and Vegeta blinked a few times in confusion before he grimaced. He had just become aware of the lack of food this past hour, and he wondered where his mother had run off to without feeding him. Surely, it didn't take that long to give his princess a tour. The palace in the city of Najjspi was much larger. Looking away from the new duties that the emperor had given to him, he noticed that she was whispering with his father on the other end of the war room. Vegeta considered calling her over, but she appeared ashen and worried, so he decided that this matter with his father was more important.

Tapping a finger in thought, he watched her a while longer before he went back to the star maps. Emperor Vegeta had just given him command of Kanassa-sei, Cretuy-sei, Wanopuleni-sei, and Est-sei – the rebelling planets of their empire. Often princes received less populated and more controllable planets for preparation to kingship, yet the emperor seemed to believe that his expertise in warfare needed to be honed in real battles, and Vegeta and the king had heartily agreed. The times were growing more violent, and the galaxy would need a firm, powerful emperor for when the universe became too dangerous. Vegeta's pampering was officially over.

Hearing his stomach rumble again, he shifted on his feet before he glanced at his mother again, hoping that she was done talking, but saw that she was leaving with his father. His eyes narrowed before he shrugged it off, and went back to work. She would likely stop by the kitchens soon to get him the huge meals they shoved down his gullet every chance that they got. Pouring himself back into his work, he compared his notes with Nappa, and calculated when the next full moon would be present on Kanassa-sei.

Figuring that he could off the Kanassajin, he began to formulate immigration lanes. The land would still be good for living, the air was especially fresh, and even though the inhabitants would be recently killed, it would still make for a good spot for any filthy rich alien race that wanted to rebuild. Nappa helped plot out several good landing 'platforms' in the major cities so that they could get most of the population out of the way with an Oozaru squadron, and perhaps they would be able to eradicate more cities later that night before they returned back to normal. Yet it still left a lot of Kanassajin alive, and the Oozaru forces were trained to their Oozaru forms more.

"We need strong men on this team," he said as he looked at the map, "five should be enough to get them all."

Nappa frowned in disapproval, "There are only three-member squads, and three should be enough for one planet, sire."

"And when they revert back to their normal forms? This is a big planet, and there're a lot of Kanassajin. They're stronger than usual beings – not by much," he amended when the frown deepened, "but their numbers trouble me." He pointed at a small paragraph in the text on the Kanassajin's capabilities, "So does this psychic thing. I don't want to miss a single slimy, blue bastard."

General Nappa conversed with one of the Oozaru squadron leaders – they had been called in to discuss the topic of cleansing the seditious planet, "Can you borrow some men from another squadron? The Prince Heir wants five strong men."

"I can think of two in the ranks that you would like … but I know a purging team that uses Oozaru might all the time, and they work good together. They would already have the training and know-how to work together. If I just chose five men from the Oozaru ranks, and put them on a team, they would need to do several exercises in order to learn to work together. Bardock and his crew have worked together for twenty-odd years," the man suddenly shrugged, uncomfortable. "Of course, this is mere speculation on my part. You are privileged to choose whatever team you so desire no matter what my input is."

"No," Vegeta raised up his hand in a condoling manner, "I like this idea. You're right in the fact that training a five-man team will take time that we won't have for this assignment. I'd like to interview this team as soon as possible."

"Yes, sire!" He bowed deeply before he called the other captains to follow him, murmuring and talking among themselves as they exited quietly.

The prince watched them go before his eyes trailed over to where the screen of his grandfather was still on. The empress had returned to her long couch with what looked like a new set of feathers that were pink and green. She had a pink feather in her hand that she was stroking tenderly, her eyes closed as she brushed the end of it against her nose, and smiled. Smirking at the sight of her, he then looked around the room again for his meal, but smelled and saw nothing, and his stomach rumbled again – even louder than before. His fist clenched in embarrassment as he saw several men and even his grandfather pause in confusion.

Immersing himself into his work, he checked the timing of Kanassa-sei's full moon repeatedly to make sure that they had the date right. In the past, not checking for the correct time of a full moon had killed hundreds of thousands of Saiyajin. He did not wish to send troops callously into a battle that they would lose. Doing so would give his grandfather a bad impression, and he didn't know about his grandfather's other heirs, but _he_ wanted to live long enough to sit upon the emperor's throne. Vegeta turned to the screen again when he heard the emperor's voice address him once more, "Prince, have you decided a course of action regarding your new charges?"

Since he was standing, this time, he gave his grandfather a bow – appropriate from the Prince Heir to his emperor – before telling him, "Kanassa-sei will be purged within the week, sire. On the full moon in four days, I'll have sent a team of five to the planet. On Wanopuleni-sei, I'll dispatch a police force to watch the streets. The rebellion there is small, and will be stamped out soon enough – all in the name of keeping the peace. The other two will have our army's garrisons restocked with fresh troops, and bring the troops there back to their homes, but I'll have to leave the commanding officers that know how to deal with those particular species."

"I see. A team of five? Interesting," he said, still looking over a contract in front of him. "That trade-in of tired soldiers for new men is sound. Are you hiring your own mercenaries to take care of Wanopuleni-sei, or will you take foot soldiers out of the army?"

"I think that if I hire some men, they could do just as good of a job, and I don't want to waste the army's time on them. They're merely rioting, sire." He watched the other male nod absently before his eyes finally fell on the prince as if sizing him up, and then the dark eyes were gone again. Vegeta's blood thrilled as he had not received this much attention from the emperor since his ascension to a Prince.

It was hours later that he felt the ache in his stomach again, around the time that the adrenaline of gaining his grandfather's notice ebbed away. That time, it echoed around the room in a torrent, and he clutched at it almost weakly, grimacing at the book in his hand. The only hour in his day that he had to relax in, and his stomach wanted to ruin it by eating. He inspected the timepiece on his scouter, and cursed when he realized that it was already nearing suppertime before he stood up, leaving his study in search of his mother.

When he rounded into his dining hall in search of her, he suddenly remembered that the responsibility of his diet had shifted into the hands of his wife, for she was standing in front of a vast banquet filled with all sorts of colorful foods, and his mouth watered. He lingered just beside the doorway however, analyzing her calm appearance, and the food behind her. Vegeta drummed his fingers over the paneling of the door, and then stepped in closer, "This is a rather late lunch, dear wife."

"Oh? I thought it was more like … an early dinner," she said, and then whipped out a fan, covering the lower half of her face, and appearing to inspect him. His ire rose steadily even while he tried to suppress his murderous stomach from growling at her with him, and Vegeta stalked forward. The fan was a shield that hid either her terror or mirth from him. Whether Kakarotto was happy or scared, he did not care, but if she was smiling in any way, he wanted to see it. Tearing the flimsy piece of cloth away – nothing like the dark heavy wood of the fan his mother had given to her last night – and scowled further at the sight of her blank visage. She pursed her lips outward slightly, and then a little devilish grin appeared, "Did you want a kiss, my lord?"

His midsection rumbled again, but suddenly the grin in front of him was much more interesting, and he couldn't settle on tasting the food behind her or the lips only a half a meter away. He stamped away his abrupt arousal, but eyed her lips longer than necessary before he smirked, "Maybe tonight – after you're asleep."

To his credit, she said nothing for a moment before she nodded, the smile drifting off, "As you please, sire."

Vegeta opened his mouth again before he closed it, and frowned, realizing something odd that he hadn't thought of before. His grandfather called him 'Prince,' his grandmother still had a habit of calling him 'little prince' still, his father labeled him 'son,' and his mother had cooed all sorts of strange names into his ear as a boy only now starting to call him 'Prince' or even 'little prince.' These things were normal and right for a Royal Family – especially for one that sometimes had as many as four males named Vegeta in it – but he didn't know what his wife should call him. In public, and among generals, it was proper for royal wives to refer to their royal mates by their position – thus Grandmother would call Grandfather 'Emperor.' Usually, the males could throw out whatever names that they so wished at their mates, but they were generally restricted from outright demeaning titles in front of peasantry and citizens lest they think that they could disrespect the royal females in turn. In private, during the rare hours and minutes that the Royal Family was truly alone together, Vegeta had heard his father utter endearing words to the queen, and the same with his grandparents.

However, he had suddenly come upon a strange quandary. Just what did a wife call her husband in private? Try as he might, Vegeta couldn't remember anything that his grandmother or mother had called the emperor and king, and that caused him to begin to worry. He didn't like it when he didn't know something, and he could not find any reason for the empress and queen not to name their husbands fondly. _Unless, they're not fond of them,_ he suddenly thought, and his stomach clenched as he stared down at his own wife.

He walked around her to sit at the table, looking through the food in front of him as slaves began to fill his mug and plates. Picking up his mug after a slave had tested for poison, and the drink had proved true, he smelled it deeply, attempting to enjoy the heady aroma. Softly blowing on the red tea to cool it, he then looked over his shoulder at her, and nodded, "Come join me." Patiently waiting for the test tasters to finish, he watched as she instantly came to sit across from him at the table. His stomach echoed again, and he closed his eyes, trying to think through the aching, "Why didn't you have lunch ready for me?"

"Your mother told me that you were never partial to eating everything that the cooks gave you, so I've put together a new diet plan for you. There will be less food that you'll have to eat, but I've tried to find foods that are more filling, and I've put more vegetables in your diet to help bring up your niacin and thiamine levels," his lips twitched in distaste, and she frowned at him. "I talked to your doctors, and they say you've been complaining of fatigue and … pains lately. Those vitamins should help with that – personally, I think they're the reason you're feeling so down, so you need more of both."

"I don't like vegetables."

"I don't care," said Kakarotto bluntly, "you're going to eat them though. They'll help you get better, and then you can worry about getting stronger and studying for kingship." Vegeta clenched at the tabletop, straining not to throw energy her way in the way that he had heard his father used to do with previous wives. His little dilemma baffled him too much to try physically hurting her. Was she fond of him? It was highly unlikely, and yet, he wondered if he wanted her fondness and affections. Could Vegeta ever want it the way that he desired the same from his mother? This mere girl before him – the one he had taken and practically raped in her sleep – was still the chasm separating him and his dear mother, but maybe he could find some sort of pseudo-bridge through her, and get the warmth of his mother that he so coveted from his new wife. The chill that he felt was all there was presently however, and he at last sipped his red tea to get a different form of heat for a short time.

"Then, I will eat," he said, setting down his mug, and then grimaced at the selection in front of him. For every rack of meat that he could see, there were two dishes of vegetables alongside it. Finally, he chose a platter that contained reasonably amounts of both, and picked through the vegetables for the tasty meat within, ignoring her sigh. Unfortunately, he soon discovered as he went through the meal that there was a great deal more vegetables than meat, and realized that he would have to eat everything if he were to have a full stomach at the end of it all.

At the end of the meal, he sat back, and sighed heavily, finding himself surprised that he wasn't busting out buttons as he was apt to do after the chefs had shoved the courses down his gullet. Kakarotto stood when she finished her own smaller meal – perhaps some kind of snack – and bustled about the dining hall to make sure every slave and maid were doing things to clean the table before she went to his side, and murmured, "Is everything to your liking? Are you still hungry?"

Sneering, he turned his head away, "I won't eat another bite – I can't without ruining another good shirt. So don't you dare try to make me do it, girl."

Her hand was on his wrist then, a gently applied pressure, and he looked up at her. She was smiling just slightly as if only humoring him, and he swallowed away the stiffness of his throat as she said, "Of course, my lord. Do you need anything else?"

_I don't know._ "Nothing." _Grandmother isn't fond of Grandfather, and Mother doesn't show affections to Father. Do they realize this, or are they just fooling themselves when they are whispering nothing into their ears? Do I need **you** to be amorous, Kakarotto?_ "I just remembered something though." She inclined her head slightly, and the large spikes of her hair swayed when he looked at her, but he found himself staring at her swaying hair more than anything else, recalling her head tossing back and forth on her pillow, "My grandparents are returning home. They should be here by next summer. Grandmother always plans her return trips that way; she likes the heat." _She doesn't like my grandfather however. Has she ever shown a spark of interest in him?_ She blinked a few times, absorbing that information before she nodded in acceptance.

"I suppose it's high time that I learn Royal fan-speak from the queen," she said, and looked at the timepiece on a mantle across the dining hall. "She must still be busy with interrogations right now though." His eyebrows lifted in surprise, wondering what she was going on about, and she seemed to see his confusion, "They didn't tell you? I was attacked this morning by a man named Paragus, and I killed him."

Surging to his feet, he grabbed the front of her gown, and yanked her closer, "You're lying! Duke Paragus is a just man. He would _never_ attack the Royal Family."

She merely straightened her stance, and a frown settled across her lips and features, totally changing her entire visage. Kakarotto then pulled out her fan to smack his knuckles smartly, making him cringe, and release her. Putting the fan back into the specially made pocket, she told him, "Then I suggest that you talk to the queen about it. She saw the whole thing. I will _not_ have you doubt every word that I utter."

His eyelid twitched, but he put his fist to the side, "I do not _doubt_ it, but it is a rather unbelievable story. What makes it even more unbelievable is that a first wife survived the first attack upon her person. Who else saw the attack? Where was it?"

"It was in the medical bay with your doctors. I was viewing some of your charts when he came in. I thought he had been the slave that I ordered to bring your previous diet plan." He began to growl, furious that she had been so careless. The actions of first wives were often ridiculous, but a blunder such as the one she had just described might reflect badly on him as the Prince Heir – or his mother whom had seen the whole thing! Kakarotto raised her chin higher when the first gruff sound exploded from his chest, "If you grieve the loss of your cousin, I shall give the proper apologies to his family should they prove innocent."

Grunting, he ceased his growls, and rubbed at his forehead, trying to think on all of the things he had just been told. His wife had been attacked by the Duke for an as of yet unknown reason, and she had killed him in retaliation. Mother and Father were likely questioning Paragus' family still – small as it was though – and would not be done doing so for hours. He frowned to himself before he sighed, realizing that his father might need help later on in the week with the quadrant that his grandfather had given to him when he had reached the right age. When Vegeta would begin to receive more responsibilities, he knew that he would have to accept the job of interrogating vicious adversaries of the throne. At that moment however, it was still his father's duty even though he had many more tasks to accomplish than the prince had. Yet, the job of overlooking and conducting an interrogation was a time consuming endeavor, and one that Vegeta knew that his father would follow to the very end – no matter that his other duties were calling.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he nodded to her, and mentally scheduled how and when he could help his father with his quadrant pickle – as Vegeta currently had his own planets to watch over, "Prepare a banquet. Should they prove false and want our place in the Royal Family, Father will find it out, and the banquet will be in our victory of discovering it. Since you're planning the feast, it will be your thanksgiving to the king for his service in this manner. If they are as true and just as I thought Paragus was, then it should serve to be an adequate apology for their loss."

She ducked her head down in a little bow of acceptance, "As you wish, it shall be done."

---

As no one had said anything about the matter, Kakarotto came to realize that she would have no bodyguards to call her own, and thus not warn her of any attacks on her person. She was on her own in that respect, and she found herself jumping and twittering at the tiniest of sounds. It was in the huge halls where she looked over her shoulder the most because her footsteps echoed constantly, and it bothered her that she might not hear anyone come upon her. Fists clamped into her black petticoats, she kept them out of her way while she walked, and silently cursed the Saiyajin who thought heavy, black skirts would be ideal for Royals.

She calmed down minutely when she arrived in a different, smaller hallway, and began to practice treading a little more quietly. Kakarotto suddenly felt lucky that the soft slippers that she wore muted footfalls for the most part, and she was soon gliding down the smaller hall with minimal sound. Allowing her skirts to swish naturally, she kept her ears alert to any noises other than the soft crinkle of her lacy skirts. She heard someone speaking softly almost immediately, and she slowed down to discern whether she could determine the owner of the voice. Her eyes widened when she realized she was listening to the queen.

"- attacked. The blade went right through her hand, sticking her to the table, and I thought she was a goner for sure," Kakarotto froze all together, swallowing shallowly as she recalled what the queen was saying.

A new voice, sultry, feminine, and dark broke through the silence afterward, and she could hear the slight crackle of light speed interference that suggested that the new female was traveling, "And then she killed the duke. I didn't kill until my second day." There was a hush after that, and Kakarotto made certain that she was absolutely still while she eavesdropped on the two women. "How did the ceremony go?"

"The little thing didn't know what to do at all. I was glad to finally put her on the prince's arm, and send them off. My wrist is sore from smacking her so much. She's having only two of her walls repainted, and keeping the larger image of the fighting King Heir and emperor."

"Arba, you're not telling me something."

Another, shorter length of silence resulted afterward before Kakarotto had to lean a bit closer to hear the queen, "She closed her fan before I did, and she didn't black out in the regeneration fluid. She began to breathe it in as if she were a battle worn soldier after the prince wouldn't let her out, and she didn't choke when she traded it in for air. What kind of noblewoman does such things?"

"One that wants to live," crackled the voice over the whining frequency. "Don't fret so. First wives are notorious for such things. Either they're resigned to their fate, or they fight until their last breath. The latter always breaks eventually, so don't worry, Arba. I'll be coming home soon, and we'll be able to pick the right wife for your son together. This so-called princess must be watched over closely however. Should he grow attached to her in any way, it will be difficult for him to move onto his next wife."

"I don't think an attachment will become a problem. He hates her with his whole being. He didn't even want to take her up to claim her, and she's pretty enough for him to like, though she has no bust to speak of." She stiffened, and placed her hands over her breasts, fuming silently, and attempting to reassure herself of her mother telling her that she would have a fine female form once she was old enough – if she ever reached that age. Abruptly, she remembered how her breasts had looked that morning, finding a bodice that could only be buttoned up halfway, but had ended up pressing them into a suitable form. The red marks then became translucent, and she realized that the prince must have been contentedly sucking away at them that night. Kakarotto knew then that he probably didn't mind the current lack of cushion if it could be framed into a state that he could enjoy. Her mind raced with the new information, and formulated several ways in which she might be able to further please him – after all, unfortunately, she knew that she could not sleep through his advances forever, and she would need whatever edge she could get to live longer.

"That's true. He seems to enjoy a woman's body – not a girl's … When was the last time he took one of your petticoats?" Kakarotto jerked to attention, her eyes wide as the mysterious woman continued, "As I recall, he hasn't taken one for a few years."

"That's still the case. No more are missing, but there are still some limping maids going around. I'm sure some of that fault goes to my husband, of course," the queen murmured.

"It's normal, Arba, and it's no surprise that they grow so attached to a female companion. He's only now just realizing that you can't be the central female figure in his life anymore. The little prince will have to learn that his concern can't be for his mother, but for his wives and heir. You must push him in the right direction … Arba, it is natural; I assure you. He's actually distancing himself from you sooner than I thought he would since he was so close to you as a child."

Biting her lip, Kakarotto lowered her eyes, breathing a bit shallowly. _So he was talking about his mother …? What kind of family is this? He can't just go and compare me to his mother!_ She scowled to herself as she listened in, "I know he shouldn't become attached to her, but if I could just find ways that he will take her to his bed without a fight, I will sleep easier knowing that he is working on an heir instead of bastard children with maids dressed in my skirts."

"Perhaps, he'll work on an heir easier if it is a princess in skirts similar to yours. Talk to the Head Seamstress about fashioning his princesses' gowns after yours. That might be enough to ease him away from thoughts of you."

"Yes," the queen said slowly, "it will go much smoother that way."

_I'm not being shoved into those quirky, old-fashioned gowns,_ she thought. _I'll stick with what I have!_ Kakarotto grimaced when she felt the drag of the train behind her when she walked away, sensing the end of their conversation, _Though I'll have to get rid of these senseless trains. They're going to slow me down, and I don't want anything to do that to me._

---

_Uh … Wow, I'm hungry … and I just found out that one of my older DBZ stories is still getting reviews. XP Of course, I did just stop writing for it abruptly, and people are wondering if I'll ever write for it again, so I guess that's the reason why … but it's still pretty spiffy knowing that._

---


	6. Brother

**Live Well**

_Chapter Five: Brother_

Kakarotto sighed when the contraption was finally closed shut, and was astonished to find that the new overcoat wasn't uncomfortable at all. Standing so that she could view the profile of her body, she smiled slightly when she saw that her breasts stood out more in the gown. She grinned at the seamstress behind her before placing her hands on her more apparent hips. She inspected the front again, making sure that the neckline was not too low for her age, and then stroked the lace at the bottom of her neck. It barely covered the new red marks her husband had left on her shoulders and chest. The night before last had seen him voraciously attacking her neck and breasts with his mouth, and the markings had yet to fade.

When she had awoken that current morning, she found herself wearing the bodice again, but with several more black petticoats on, and new marks on her chest. She had laid there feeling oddly satisfied and marvelous before she realized he had come for a visit. After she had risen and bathed in the steam room, she had called up several seamstresses to adjust corsets and bodices so that she could attract him during the day instead of waking up in bed in an uncomfortable bodice. The night was for sleeping as far as she was concerned, and her husband would have to give his attentions to her _before_ she went to sleep – even if it killed her.

She fairly thrummed as she twirled slowly in a circle, trying not to topple over in the weighty gown, and then slightly tinged red when she felt the lace shift over her still sensitive breasts. Either he had been overly excited or the wear on her young breasts was finally being felt. Since he had continued his strange escapades in the dead of night, she had been left to wonder if it was the shape of her breasts that had done it or the multitude of petticoats in which she had awoken. Kakarotto was adorned in a gown fitted for the newly found shape, and six petticoats just to find out.

The new princess sat down when her hairdresser came in, and she ordered her to find a circlet that would best suit her and her gown for the day. The black lace on the light pink overcoat with the dark petticoats was appraised absently, and she smiled when a silver circlet was chosen for the look. Hearing the door creak open, she remembered that she had not called for anyone to come in, so she tensed, and looked into the mirror, which had been positioned so that she could see the doorway. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw that it was her husband.

Willing herself to calm down, she patiently waited for the seamstress and hairdresser to stop fussing over her features before she rose to face him, and stepped closer. Pretending not to take note of his roaming eyes, Kakarotto looked him over in turn, frowning when she saw that a button had popped off. She briefly touched where it had been on his shirt, and looked up at his questioning face, "Did you eat too much?"

His eyes widened before his hands ran up and down his shirtfront only to discover what she had, "Shit, not again."

Lifting a freshly plucked eyebrow at his statement, she tilted her head up farther to look into his eyes, "What does that mean? Did your shirt buttons pop off yesterday?" She smoothed her hands up and down his chest, checking for any other loose buttons before she drew away when he released a short growl. Sighing, she pulled out her fan to slap his stomach with it, "Why are you eating past your fill? You'll get fat if you keep that up."

His thick eyebrows almost touched his hairline before he turned away with a huff, "What are you talking about? I ate everything that was sent to me for breakfast this morning, and nothing more. Why are you annoyed when I'm consenting to that stupid diet plan with all of those … egh, vegetables?"

Slipping her fan back into its pocket, she turned to the seamstress, "Make him a new shirt, and someone get me a tail-ring." She smiled when she watched him become rigid in indignation as the seamstress began to measure him for a new shirt, and Kakarotto took a small silver tail-ring from a maid to put it on her tail herself. After she did this, she sat at her vanity mirror to primp and flatten her eyelashes, not yet trusting the hairdresser with such a task. When she finished with this, she fluttered her lashes at herself in the mirror before she realized that she had accidentally curled her lashes. "Oh, no …"

Kakarotto nearly jumped to the ceiling when her husband was abruptly in the mirror, looking in, and frowning as he jeered at her, "What? Did you lose a button too? You haven't even eaten yet." Scowling softly, his eyes latched with hers in the glass before he blinked, and his sneer hardened, "Your eyes look fine. Now stop that or I'll poke one out for you." Pouting slightly at him, she set the eyelash iron aside, and looked at her eyelashes again before she figured that there was really no helping it for the time being. Her husband's hand touched her side then, and she went still as he rubbed up and down the black lace that was lying over the pink overcoat, "My mother wanted to speak with you after you ate. You should hurry down, and get your fill so you can talk to her, and still have time for prepping the banquet."

Kakarotto blinked slowly, looking at him in the mirror, bare-chested, and speaking with a darkened, low voice. Making an effort at a smile though she felt vaguely ill, she touched his hand, "What are you going to do today?"

He jerked back, staring at the back of her head as if she wasn't able to see him do so in the mirror, and then stood up straight so that his face and features were no longer visible in the glass. The prince walked toward her bed to sit down, "I'll be wondering if you're going to starve me through lunch again, and whether or not I should even eat the food if you're going to complain about me eating everything."

Shaking her head before he had even finished, she elaborated, "If you get full, I want you to stop eating. You won't be doing yourself or your shirts any good that way." With him sitting down on her bed, she could view his face, and she saw when his brow twisted into befuddlement. Kakarotto stood to face him, and grinned when he began to look more sour than usual, "Besides, we can't have a fat prince now, can we?"

The prince fidgeted on her bed before he stood up, "Of course not, and you shouldn't dawdle in here any longer if you intend to meet with my mother. She won't stand for waiting on any of my wives." Hearing this, she turned to a slave, and waved her over, signaling for her to strip the gown. While more slaves came closer to aid the first in getting the dress off, her husband fumed, "What are you doing? I just told you that she doesn't want to wait for you to play dress-up!"

"I'm sure that she doesn't want to see me wearing such raunchy attire either, my lord," she said, lightly shivering when the cool air hit the bare skin of her torso. As Kakarotto reviewed the Royal Robes, her husband abruptly turned to her walk-in closet, digging through the petticoats and overdresses as if searching. Finally, he seemed to have found what he had been searching for, and came back with ten petticoats, and a black overcoat with green lace. He laid it onto the bed before he took the recently finished shirt from the seamstress to pull it on. Seemingly sensing his request, the slaves and maids began to smooth out the heavy skirts, and searched the closet for the right corset to squeeze her into for the gown. Pressing her lips tightly together as he stood beside her, she watched him straighten his new blue shirt. Her husband was already done adorning his clothes, and Kakarotto had a good ten minutes left until she could even think about leaving the room.

"Princess," she looked over her shoulder at him, seeing as the slaves were still putting on her corset, "next time that you nitpick about wearing something indecent, I'll find something heavier for you." As she glowered at him through the slaves' tugs to cinch her waist more, the prince leaned in closer with a wider grin, "Besides, there are a great many more gowns more 'indecent' than that sweet black and pink dress." Before he left, she watched him stop at her bed to stroke the lace of the gown he has chosen for her. She held her breath, almost in disbelief as his lips curled into a faint smile before he turned to the door and left.

---

Sighing, Vegeta set down his glass of whiskey, and rubbed his forehead as he looked over the paperwork in front of him. Come lunchtime, a snack had been sent up to him, and he had eaten it all ravenously, still finding himself hungering for more, so he had sent the slaves who had brought it to him to get more – much to his chagrin and their shock. It was well known around the palace about his lack of want for food. The cause, of course, was a well-kept secret for then people could try to do all sorts of things to his meals. His growth problem was known only to himself, his doctors, and the rest of the Royal Family.

When the slaves had returned, he sent one down for a bottle of whiskey, having finally remembered that, in his state of marriage, it was legal for him to indulge. He had poured only one glass, and was still cradling the single glass hours later as he worked. While he knew that he wanted to drink straight from the bottle with no pause, Vegeta was sensible enough to recognize that he shouldn't attempt such a thing while he was at work. Besides, the beverage had a particularly foul taste that he could only handle when he felt a headache coming on.

He had been told a few hours before that Duke Paragus' treachery had been an isolated incident and that the entire family was not to blame for the actions of the one man who, at the very least, seemed to have gone mad. The new Duke, Brolli – shamed and embarrassed by his father – had declared quite boldly that he would erase all records of his father's name from their House. His fist clenched when he remembered how Duke Brolli had then praised the princess, and, in an even bolder move, declared that he would honor her quick wit and outstanding grace with a feast.

When he would finally find her eunuch guard, he would worry less about another male siring a child with her. Vegeta knew that she would not be around much longer after birthing a child, but he would not stand the dishonor of having a wife that carried another male's brat. He would never be able to live that one down – even if she was just his first wife.

Grimacing, he took a longer draught from his whiskey glass than he had initially intended, and coughed hard after he had finished while hitting his chest. Sighing, he put the glass farther away from himself, and looked up at the doorway when it opened. His eyes widened, clasping the top of his desk before relaxing, as his mother treaded in. She nodded to him before she shut the door. Vegeta sat up straighter, and wished that he had not ordered for whiskey – no matter much how it seemed to help his aching head. The queen sat across from him, and he wondered if this was the right time to tell her of the things he had been doing to his new wife while she had slept.

"What are you drinking?" She whipped out a fan – it was not the fan made of beautiful, heavy wood that his grandmother had bought for her on his parents' wedding day, but something much lighter and covered in little pink pearls – and pointed at the glass with it.

The pink pearls made him remember the 'scandalous' dress his wife had been wearing that morning, and he shook his head to clear himself, "Just some whiskey." When she raised an eyebrow at him, he sighed, and smiled slightly, "That's just my first glass, and I poured it over two hours ago." Her warm smile made him clear his throat, and he looked away, "Did you need to speak with me, Mother?"

"Are you busy right now?" She looked pointedly at the maps and charts in front of him, and he blinked down at them for a moment before he realized that he had been brooding for about a half hour before she had come in. Sighing, he shook his head, watching as she frowned slightly, "The seamstress told me that your wife ordered some gowns today."

Taking a deep breath, he nodded, "She did. I think they were in the middle of altering some gowns too, and she had them make me a new shirt when the one I was wearing busted." He paused before he frowned, "And then she yelled at me for eating all of my breakfast. You would have broken my back if I hadn't. She's not making any sense to me at all!"

She smiled consolingly, and said, "Young girls do silly little things like that all the time. Just ignore them. Of course, that's not to say that we don't continue to do silly little things like that for our husbands as we grow older."

A grin found its way onto his face, "You're not old, Mother. You're still beautiful." He bit his tongue when he let that slip, seeing her face melt into stillness, "I …" The woman managed a weak smile before she glanced at the glass of whiskey as if that explained everything, but he shook his head, standing up, "No, it's been my only glass this entire day … Mother, I have to tell you something." She eyed him carefully, and he realized how threatening appearing he seemed by standing and shouting as he had done, so he slowly sat down, "I've been taking your skirts, and claiming women that I dress inside of them."

"I know," she said, and the fist he had hidden under his desk relaxed, all tension in his body draining away. Vegeta sighed, closing his eyes to block her out of his sight, not wishing to see whatever amounts of disgust that she had for him. "It's hard to not notice some of my best skirts missing, Prince." His chest crumbled, hearing her call him that title seemed to create some sort of barrier between them, and his spirit ached as he listened to her, "You do know that – according to law – I am technically at your mercy in that regard. If you say the words, I am honor bound to follow them."

"Yet, you are not bound by anything else," he said, opening his eyes to watch her face twist into confusion. "Mother, are you fond of my father?"

Queen Arba opened her mouth, but then hesitated for so long that he began to clench and unclench his fists in worry until finally she claimed, "Yes, I am fond of him. Prince, what does that have to do with what binds me though?"

"Nothing, apparently," he said, sitting back into his chair before he grabbed his whiskey glass, and drank the rest of it. Vegeta noticed that his mother was staring at the bottle of whiskey at his elbow, and he put the glass down to fill it with the vile drink, "Would you like some?" She nodded, and he put the glass in front of her. Surprising him, his mother picked up the drink and swallowed it all down as quickly as she could – not even calling for a slave to come and taste-test it for her.

Standing up, she asked, "Would you like anything from me?"

"Yes," he said, and he stood up to walk around the desk, and take her hand into his. "Can you tell my wife to come look for me? I want to see her."

Her jaw dropped slightly before she nodded slowly, "Of course. I'll go find her right away." She dithered a while before she smiled up at him, and curtsied before she left him in his study. Feeling like a huge fool, he went to his chair, slumping into it, and pouring another glass of whiskey before he just stared at the liquid inside, almost not comprehending his actions behind the gesture. Vegeta laughed when he realized what he must have looked like, and went to the door to give the slave the bottle, telling her to bring it back to the kitchens. When he returned to his chair, he sipped from the glass he had kept, wondering how his mother had downed the whole thing without cringing.

Kakarotto arrived alone about twenty minutes later, shutting the door behind herself so softly that he might have not heard her come in if it weren't for the soft swish of her skirts. Vegeta stood up from his chair when he saw her, and held his breath as he took in all of the lace she sported. Yet he kept his hands to himself – or at least on his whiskey glass as he slowly sipped it with a frown.

She stared at him and his glass for a while before she smiled, her gloved hand going over her lips as she laughed! "Why are you sipping _whiskey_?"

Vegeta went still in shock before he cleared his throat and set the glass down, "It tastes horrible." She cocked her head to the side before she picked up the glass to sniff it lightly before she put it back down with a little crinkle of her nose, "What?"

"No wonder then that it's 'horrible,' it's a bad brand. From which side of the equator did it come?" Sitting in the chair that his mother had just recently occupied, Kakarotto smoothed out her skirts before she made a little show of fluffing all of the lace on her.

"It's from off-world …" His own head tilted to one side as he looked her over, wondering how she was still able to walk in such heavy skirts – and so many of them! She then made another little face at his admonition, "What now?"

"Saiyajin whiskey is better. It's nothing like this weak brand," she said, idly picking up a sheet of paper from his desk, and looking over it curiously before she frowned. Taking another piece of parchment, she inspected it as well, "You're planning an invasion with five Oozaru teams?"

"No, it will be a team of five," he explained, "I'll be interviewing a team that one of our Oozaru Force Captains referred to. It's led by a low-classed soldier named Bardock, but he's not a real part of our army – just a Night Watch guard." Vegeta took back the papers from her, smoothing them out briefly before he began to pack them and the rest of the documents into his folders. "If I think they're good enough, they'll be going to Kanassa-sei for the full moon in a few days."

She slipped away another piece of paper from him, and he glowered at her audacity. Her eyes were not on him however, but on the paper, and they widened in surprise, "What are you doing here? These people are just starving."

"They're rioters, and they need to be punished appropriately," he elaborated, snatching away the document, and scowled further at her offended appearance. "These planets are under my control now, and it's my duty to make them know that I will not brook such nonsense from my people."

"That's why I'm objecting! It's _our_ people that are starving there," his eyes twitched in befuddlement, his hand pausing from putting the parchment back into its designated folder. "There are Saiyajin living on Wanopuleni-sei that can't feed themselves anymore because of the ridiculously high price of food, _and_ there's a shortage. No Saiyajin in their right mind would ever continue to live there, but now they're so poor from just trying to eat that they can't afford any transports for off world. My lord, don't do this to them."

Opening his mouth, he then shut it with a sharp snap, and opened the document to look over the particulars more closely, and wondering why he had not seen it before, chewing his tongue, "Shit … I can't lower the prices abruptly though. The merchants there need to make a living too, but if I just leave them as they are, my people will starve and … Shit!" After punching his desktop, he inhaled and exhaled as slowly as his quivering chest would allow him before he began to empty his folders again, and searched for a way to go around and fix his mistakes. _I can't start my real career by killing off my own kind. I need to retract those orders to find a team of mercenaries, and then … by the gods, how do I feed that many starving Saiyajin? Wanopuleni-sei is an industrial planet, so I can't send in missionaries to teach them how to farm or to help find new hunting grounds because the entire planet is covered in metal! Let's see … the population of Saiyajin is near twenty thousand or so … I can feed them straight out of my pocket for three weeks tops, but then what will I do when the money is gone?_ "Shit, how the hell do I feed them …?"

"Can't you transport them all to Kanassa-sei when your little invasion there is over? There's a lot of them," Vegeta slowly looked up at her, having almost forgotten his wife's presence, "but if you get some assault ships to help carry them and their belongings there, then that will take care of finding potential occupants once the planet is purged."

"Assault ships aren't big enough for twenty thousand people and their households," he said at last, watching her eyes become large in slight shock. "Perhaps I could hire transports designed for moving furniture though … I could ask them to help pay for this, say … ten or twenty percent of the cost of transporting their things, and the rest of the trip is free. That would help save some of the cost of moving and feeding them until they can reach Kanassa-sei." He tapped his finger on his desk before he began to sort his work out, looking for the right frequencies he would have to use to start the preparations, "But the full moon is in three days. I can't just tell them that they have to pack up, and give me whatever money that they have left because they must start over somewhere else in less than a week."

Kakarotto's head cocked before she nodded, "Find out how much transporting their belongings will cost first. If it's a high price, then ten percent should be just fine, but Wanopuleni-sei isn't so far away from Kanassa-sei, so you could make them pay as high as fifty percent if it's low enough … though you wouldn't want to look too cheap, of course."

Rubbing his forehead, he looked over the papers before he got up, and went to the doorway, speaking to the slave standing at attention outside, "Find General Nappa, and bring him here." Turning back to his desk when the slave dashed away, he nodded at Kakarotto, "Would you find someone to bring tea up? I think that Nappa and I shall be retiring late tonight." After a moment, he shut the door, and caught her hand as she rose to exit, pressing his lips to her palm, "I think that I will be more careful when I'm looking over documents." Her hand clenched over his in surprise before he saw her smile, and she leaned up to kiss his cheek. When his own jolt of astonishment was soothed away, he tightened his grip on her hand, causing her to stiffen in alarm, "Why did you kiss me?"

"I wanted to," she said defensively, "but if you're just going to act like this every time I do it, then I suppose I should stop such silly little notions before they begin."

Pursing his lips, he looked her over gradually before he said, "You can kiss me, but only when you truly want to." Then he stepped back to let her pass though she didn't move, only staring at him in bewilderment. After a moment, he elaborated, "I like red tea. Order some of that for me."

Nodding, she walked as far as the door before she turned around, her back straight, and her cheeks flaming red, "I want to be awake tonight. If I fall asleep, would you wake me up?"

Nappa decided to walk in just then, knocking on the door as he came in, "Sire, you called?" His eyes went to the princess standing at the doorway, and her abruptly calm, and peach-colored face before he nodded his head in a bow, "Excuse me, highnesses, didn't mean to intrude."

"No, it's all right," Vegeta said, closing his eyes as he composed himself with more effort than she had done. "Get in here, General, I wanted to discuss the situation on Wanopuleni-sei with you." The bald man ducked his head in another bow, and came in fully, dwarfing him and his wife put together, and causing a slight surge of jealousy in the shorter prince.

"I thought that Wanopuleni-sei was already taken care of plan-wise. Did something come up?" He went to sit at the chair in front of Vegeta's desk, and the prince moved to take his own chair.

"The situation has changed dramatically. Either my grandfather was testing me, or he was not well informed on the matter, but the rioters are Saiyajin that are starving. Our people." As Nappa's eyes widened in shock, Vegeta saw his wife still at the door, and he smirked while nodding at her, "Don't worry, I'll wake you up. Get the maids to find you something nice, and don't forget about the tea." Her chin rose while her cheeks tinged lightly before she curtsied and was out the door before Nappa glanced back at her.

---

He stopped at the palace gates, glancing around at the other applicants that had shown, and then at the guards who were watching the lot of them with suspicious gazes. Sweeping back his long mane of hair, he rubbed his temple tiredly, and wondered if his parents knew that he was missing. To have lost their daughter was a crying shame, but should they realize that their son had left, and didn't intend to come back would break their hearts.

Radittsu would not leave until he was sure that his sister was safe from harm while inside of the huge palace, and if he could not, then it was high time that he put his stealth skills to good use. To be sure, he had never tried getting to know his sister very well, but as a boy, he had determined that becoming attached to her would prove a bad thing in the long run. When she and his mother had finally gone out the door, he had been struck with an odd feeling throughout his form, and he had been ill in the washroom's sink for the entire time that they had been away. Upon his mother's return, Radittsu had felt only marginally better.

Since then, the only meals he had been able to hold down had been what he had caught out in the wild when he was trekking toward the capital, Talji'Be. The man had left home only a day after his sister had, bearing through her 'funeral' with a grimace before he finally found himself in the desert. He had not known then where he was heading before he saw that he was facing the sinking suns, and saw Kakarotto's hair in the arching rays as they sank into the hills. Radittsu couldn't remember a time that he had run faster or sweated harder. His sister was calling to him from Talji'Be, and needed him with her. As he stared up at the gilded arches of the gates, Radittsu promised himself that he would leave her side only if he died.

---

_Pffff! Als don't sleep! We never sleep! XP We do get tired though, so sometimes at night we shut our eyes for a few hours at a time. Mmm … closing some issues up in the story, but opening up several new ones too! Can you see 'em? Cause I sure can't – I lost them, so tell me where they are …_

_XP_

---


	7. Whispers and Kisses

_Kizmet,_

_(I think I've seen your name before ... XP This is going to bug me all day ... Have you ever reviewed any of my YYH work ...?)_

_Mmmm ... Okay, I understand your concern on that, but these things about Vegeta in these last couple of chapters had to be said. However, this next chapter will probably focus a little more on Vegeta again before it switches back to Kakarotto. What's going on with Vegeta right now is important, you see. It's called setting the stage/mood, and I've been known to take **at least** fifteen chapters before my plot becomes known. Hope you were paying attention._

_As for Kakarotto making more like Gokuu ... I would like you to know that Kakarotto is **not** Gokuu. This seems a simple enough explanation, but a lot of people seem to think that slapping the name, Kakarotto, onto Gokuu will suddenly transform him and make people 'understand' that he is someone else. Unfortunately, the reason for this is that they don't take into account the Saiyajin upbringing/views that he would have had. In fact, Kakarotto should be more based on Turles because he's supposed to represent what Gokuu might have been had his head not been bashed into some rocks._

_Taking this in, you really have just hope that Kakarotto is a convincing enough representation of that type of person/monster – to convince your audience that Kakarotto is not just another name for Gokuu, and that he is his own character._

_A lot of people are saying how they like my Kakarotto. I was hoping that they wouldn't because that means that my representation needs further tweaking to make her character be hated, or at least respected and left alone to do her own thing._

_I'll be working on that, so beware … In fact, I have the perfect fix now. Thanks._

_The AL_

**Live Well**

_Chapter Six: Whispers and Kisses_

She cuddled into the heat pooling beside her, sighing softly as it sent thick tendrils to wrap around her torso, her bare nipples warming against the new heat in her bed. Feeling something wet on her ear, her eyes creased open only to see a blurred head of hair, and she melted against the dark form of her husband as hazy unconsciousness threatened her in the back of her mind. Her hands clenched over his body before she realized that there was no cloth over him for her to cling. Groaning, she buried her face into his chest, reveling in the warmth that wanted to lull her back to sleep.

"Are you awake now?" He asked of her, and she nodded tiredly, yawning. The prince gathered her closer against him before she trilled sleepily, her eyes sliding shut.

Her eyes opened again some time later, her breath hitching sharply from the odd presence of some warm forms on her breasts, and she whimpered from the unexpected tightening. She relaxed marginally when she heard the prince again, "Shh, you're doing so well."

Shuddering when she felt something hot swallow over one of her breasts, her eyes drifted shut again for a long time once more. Kakarotto stirred fitfully again, groaning softly as she felt a deep thickness permeating her body. Holding her breath, she arched hard, crying out before she slumped back, and moaned. Her husband kissed her lips before pressing them quickly over her neck and breasts, "Ooh, baby, yes, yes." She gasped for air when heat spread throughout her body, and Kakarotto dug her nails into his shoulders as she screamed abruptly, her next arch almost lifting them both off her bed. His energy crackled over them both, and she clutched tighter as something even hotter entered her in a long-winded spray.

Panting heavily, she scratched his chest lightly before she licked her salty-tasting lips. He pressed his lips to her temple after a moment, and Kakarotto shifted beneath him uncomfortably when she felt like she could move, "Mmh … Lord … you're heavy …"

"Hm?" Her husband didn't move for a few moments before he made a sound of understanding, and shifted so that they were laying side by side with him still resting inside of her. Her cheeks stained bright pink, and she covered her face when she realized this. The prince rubbed up and down her arms before he pulled her close against his chest, "Sleep now, Princess Kakarotto."

Sighing when he pulled away, she curled up into the heat he left behind in her bed, and shuddered in wonder. _That was sex …? He didn't keep me awake the whole time! That was so mortifying, but at the same time …_ She flushed with shame before she sat up, shivering at the contact of cooler air on her skin, "Lord Husband, wait."

He stopped at the door, and looked back at her, and she realized then that he was still completely naked, glimmering in the scant starlight from outside her windows. His hand rested deliberately on the door's latch as if to tell her that he would leave no matter what she said, "What is it?"

"Would you stay? I" – and that's when she began to blush – "don't feel done yet."

"'Done?'" He laughed, his hand tightening over the latch, "Are you baking? Though that would explain why you're so red, princess." She shook her head, and wobbled onto her feet, unsteady from the prior rush that had infiltrated her body just moments before, but he frowned, looking away, "Just tell me what you want."

"Please, stay."

"Why?" He quipped, grabbing her hair, and forcing her to her knees. It took her a moment to realize that she was wearing a tight bodice again with dark skirts that billowed around her when she hit the floor. Her hands clutched into the petticoats tightly, and she swallowed nothing when he hissed, "Is that what you want? Do you think I'll stay just because you _asked_, or are you offering your body to me to produce my heir?"

"Yes," she said immediately. Kakarotto had deemed that she had already acted wantonly enough, and that she didn't need to appear more whorish in front of him, so she gave him the excuse of doing her duty. "Please, I don't think I can sleep now."

---

She bit her tongue, drawing blood as she sat in her sweat bath. When she had finally awoken, her husband had already been gone, and the only people that greeted her that morning were her slaves, maids, and mother-in-law. The latter of which had been furious, and slapped a new red mark onto her face.

"How dare you," she had snapped. "You have hickeys up to your _ears_. I don't know how I'll be able to cover up this mess you've made."

_It's **his** mess,_ she had wanted to say, but the words had stuck to the back of her mouth, and all she could do was nod her head, wondering if she would be able to spit the taste of him out of her mouth. The worst of their doings had been rinsed away in the strange spray of water from the ceiling, and then the queen had left the servants to care for the rest of her cleansing. None of them giggled or whispered amongst each other this time, and she felt like she could have handled that more than their silence.

Being her slaves and maids, they were to attend to her throughout the whole day – day and night. Last evening, they had been just outside her bedroom door like always, and had heard the entire thing. Kakarotto had cursed herself for a fool every moment she was inside that room. Since they were husband and wife, surely, such things were normal, so why hadn't she known or thought ahead? Were things like this to be kept a secret? How was she supposed to hide all of the marks and bruises from prying eyes before she got to the medical bay?

Kakarotto rose when they were done scraping the rest of the mess and sweat off her, and went back to her bedroom to stand and wait for them to dress her. The queen was waiting there with a large black gown whose neckline would reach up to the bottom of her chin once she was adorned in the heavy thing. She almost thanked the woman for finding such a dress to cover herself, but the thought froze in her mind when the woman was raising her hand again for another strike.

Furious, she grabbed Arba's wrist, and punched her forearm, hearing the bones crack before she released her, and stepping back. The older woman hissed sharply, clutching at her shoulder to still her broken arm as much as possible as it hung loosely at her side, "What do you think you're doing!?"

"Don't _touch_ me," she said before she ignored the queen completely, and pointed at the black gown with a finger, tossing an energy ball at it to torch the hideous cage that it was. "Slaves, find my new pink dress," she told the gaping women, and then went to sit at her vanity to wait.

---

"Are you sure?" Still traveling through space, the emperor and empress were scratchy images upon the giant screen of their meeting hall. He stamped another document before he picked up a copy of what was in front of the prince, but didn't look at it, only over the paper and at Vegeta. The prince only nodded, and the emperor frowned before glancing at the parchment, "… Nogao, did you meddle again?"

The empress stopped her fan-conversation with Vegeta's mother, and glowered at her husband as if there were something wrong with him, "I do not _meddle_, Emperor. I merely give gentle nudges."

"Fine then," he stood up, and brought the parchment over to the woman who suddenly went quite still, just as stunned as the others present in their meeting that he had not simply called her over. "Were you gently nudging twenty thousand Saiyajin into starvation? It was only mentioned _once_ that Saiyajin were the rioters, and it was hidden in a mess of a paragraph at the very bottom of the page. It's a miracle that the Prince Heir saw it."

Vegeta said nothing to correct his grandfather despite having his wife sitting beside him, quite aptly aware of how much trouble his grandmother would be in should she prove false. He watched her fan snap shut, and she stared at the document in his hand before she took the page, looking over it carefully. After a long ten minutes of investigating the assignment given to her grandson, she gave it back to her husband, and said faintly, her painted face a deathly white, "I do not gently nudge our people."

Nodding, he touched her cheek, and she relaxed, color returning to her face. Then the emperor went back to his chair, and sat down while the empress took some time to regain her composure. Vegeta's mother, also a frighteningly pale tone, had already closed her fan quietly, and was glancing between the couple unsurely. In fact, she had seemed rather agitated this entire morning. His wife had come in with her, totally devoid of all the marks he had left on her that night, and she appeared as cool as ice. However, his mother had been such a pallid color in comparison that he could not imagine that Kakarotto knew what was wrong. The very moment that Queen Arba had sat down beside her husband, she had not moved to another seat, and she and the empress had been conversing with their fans from the beginning of the meeting.

Kakarotto was still beside him, not even shaking or troubled in the least that his mother was worried, and only flinched when his grandmother was in danger. He took her hand, and murmured into her ear, "You seem to be doing better already."

"I hate you," she whispered back, and he closed his eyes momentarily before he drew away.

His grandfather frowned at the two, but the Prince Heir's wife didn't even twitch while the man did so, and Vegeta glanced over at her uneasily. Eyes sweeping over his wife, daughter- and granddaughter-in-law, Emperor Vegeta barked, "Family meeting _now_. Generals, leave the room." Vegeta looked between the three women himself, and sat up straighter while the generals left. His grandfather grabbed a slave before he left, murmuring something into his ear before shoving him away to make him leave as well. When they were all completely alone, the emperor beckoned his wife closer to him, and then pulled her into his lap, "Nogao, tell me. What's wrong with Arba?"

Nogao waited until Arba was situated snugly in her own husband's lap, and her face buried in his chest before the empress murmured lazily, "The princess broke her arm this morning."

Vegeta's chest went numb, and he stared ahead at nothing when his grandfather nodded, and looked directly at his grandson, obviously putting the new husband in charge of the situation. Restraining his hand, he turned to his wife, and hissed out, "You did what?"

Raising her head higher, Kakarotto told him calmly, "I was returning the favor."

He almost discarded the notion – his own beautiful, cultured, well-bred, and graceful mother would not _dare_ hit another upper-class lady – but seeing his wife's proud stance, Vegeta slowly turned around to look at his mother a little closer. Almost tossing away the thought that she was hiding, Vegeta inspected her pale countenance, and slightly shaken form before he closed his eyes. _Why have I never seen this before …?_

"Willful beasts like you always break harder," Nogao murmured, her head still against the emperor's chest. Her full lips had curled into a serene grin of delight, her supple tail loose and wrapped contentedly around her husband's wrist.

Vegeta's mind reeled when Kakarotto responded with a smile, "So they do." She looked over at the queen who hissed softly before her eyes were on the empress again, "When are you going to be here again?"

He grabbed her shoulder then, feeling her tense in shock before he spoke hurriedly, "I want to speak with my wife alone for a few moments."

"Prince, this is a family meeting, and as such, you will speak to her in front of the family. This needs to be solved right away. I will not have such disorder among our wives," the emperor said, and Kakarotto tried to pull her shoulder out of his grasp. Tightening his hold on her, Vegeta yanked her into his lap then, and grappled with her to keep her there. With her eyes wide and abruptly frightened, she fought against him, scratching and clawing at his arm, nearly breaking his grip before he finally had her – for the most part – immobile against him.

He listened to her quick panting against the crook of his elbow, and the sharp scent of fear – adrenaline reeking out through her pores with cool sweat, ready to bolt the moment he loosened his grip. Sighing, though not relaxing in any manner, Vegeta laid his head into her hair, nuzzling tenderly in an attempt to soothe her. After a moment, she began to struggle again, and the scent of salty tears became known to him.

She hissed, and spat, "Don't you dare! After all you did to me, don't you dare!" His fangs clenched, glancing over at his parents and grandparents, and was not surprised to see no form of confusion in their features or eyes. "Let me go! I have to vomit all of you out!" Vegeta swallowed hard, only tightening his arms around her, and for a moment, he thought that she might break her own ribs against his embrace with how much she was fighting. Finally, she was still again, huffing and hissing in and out breath. He could see her face in a reflective piece of metal, and he didn't think the warped metal was what was twisting her teary face into such bitter rage.

When he was mostly certain she would not pitch a fit again, he managed a whisper into the hair near her ear, "I wish you had stayed that timid, scared, little girl. Instead, I have a soldier for a wife. An emotionless doll that won't to be played with, and doesn't know what she wants. I knew what you wanted before all this – freedom. Now, I can't figure you out." He dared another glance at the others in the room. All four were conversing quietly, shooting expectant looks toward as if knowing what was happening. Feeling sick in his stomach, he turned his head so that his cheek was flat against the top of her head, and he whispered again, "The disorder is not yours; it's mine for doing what I did. What I wanted was to know what you wanted, and I didn't want a doll."

"Isn't that what I am?" She said. Kakarotto's voice, dry and husky from her screams was soft enough that he had to hold still and his breath to listen. "I've always been a doll. You just didn't see it in that scared, little girl."

Vegeta sighed, relief flooding through him like a tsunami, and his grip relaxed enough that she situated herself more comfortably on his lap. "Will you tell me what you really wanted last night?"

"I don't know anymore," she deflated against him, almost a dead weight, and he saw in the piece of metal across from them that her eyelids were drooping slightly as if tired. Trusting in her exhaustion, he raised one hand to begin stroking what he could see of her tears from her cheeks. He frowned when some sort of peach cream – the color of her skin – rubbed off onto his stark white glove with the salty liquid. "I want to go sleep now though."

"Kakarotto," he said a bit louder so that his parents and grandparents could hear, "you visited a regen-tank, didn't you?"

"No."

Gripped with horror, Vegeta began to rub at her neck and then shoulders, wiping away what he could of the make-up to display his work in agonizing detail. It was made easier with the light coat of sweat that her fear had developed. The blotchy, purple bruises, and reopened red scratches coated wherever he wiped away the foundation, and he swallowed hard to keep his face straight. After a moment, he sat Kakarotto down onto the table to face him as he wiped down her chest, stopping at last at the swooping neckline of her pink and black gown.

"Prince," his grandfather began to admonish.

"Don't call me that," Vegeta said, staring at the bruises before switching to look up at her face. Kakarotto blinked at him before she laughed softly, shaking her head in disbelief, and then turned her head to face it away from all of them. He didn't dare to look at the emperor for he knew that the man would be angry, and tried to concentrate on why his wife had not gone to the med bay for some regen patches at least.

"Prince!" His mother hissed quietly, "You will not use that tone with your grandfather, the _emperor_, ever again."

"Probably," he muttered, "but he'll remember the time that I did." The amusement continued to flash through her eyes, and Kakarotto began kicking her feet slightly as they dangled above the floor. Grimacing, he looked down at her hips, imagining the bruises he had left there that night, and wondered how sore she was – inside and out – from his treatment. "I'm taking you to a regen-tank now, Princess. You won't resist that, right?"

She gazed at him a while before she sighed, her smile leaving, "If you do anything other than that, I will." Vegeta nodded, and took her wrist carefully, suddenly remembering the bruises shaped like his fingers on them. He tugged gently, and she hopped off the table to follow him.

He stopped only at the door to face his grandfather. Vegeta opened his mouth before he closed it, all thoughts going blank in his mind before he shook his head, and pulled Kakarotto out into the hallway with him. Just before the door shut behind him, he heard his parents erupt into a pleading apology toward the emperor.

Snorting, Vegeta offered his arm to his wife, and she took it, glancing back at the door. "What was that about?"

"I did you wrong," he said numbly while they walked, his voice echoing quietly through the hall. "I should not have done so. You trusted me to teach you, but I hurt you instead."

"You taught me quite a few things last night actually. Nothing I would really like to repeat though," Kakarotto said, and he nodded after a moment in understanding. "I … don't want that thing in my mouth again," she whispered, and he swallowed hard, nodding once more as he recalled her sounds of disgust and anger. "I'll chew it off if you do."

Vegeta winced, "I understand completely." He looked at her before clearing his throat, "I assume you at least rinsed out your mouth before going out."

"Thoroughly," she said, her lips turning into a thin, displeased line. Curling his fingers around her own, Vegeta leaned down to kiss them, and the couple stopped in the hall. She went still, fidgeting slightly even after he pulled back.

"So you really don't know how to give your husband a proper kiss?" He asked, slightly disappointed by her nonparticipation. When Kakarotto shook her head, his eyebrows seemed to rise halfway up his forehead, "Oh." Combing through his thick mane with his fingers, Vegeta scrutinized his small wife before he repressed a wicked grin, "I'll teach you then, dear princess." She stiffened in alarm, and he murmured quickly to soothe her, "Not right now. We'll start after you're through with the regen-tank."

Lips turned downward, "After what you did to me? How can you even look at me like you can touch me again?"

He scowled in turn, telling her, "Because I _will_ touch you again, princess. For one thing, we are married, for another, we should be producing my heir, _and_ it is our honeymoon still. It lasts another four days, if you remember." _Even though you aren't going to be my queen, you will be good practice for the woman who **will** be._

"Five days," she said abruptly, and he blinked a few times in shock. Kakarotto explained brazenly, a faint tinge of pink to her cheeks and ears, "Last night … never happened. It doesn't count."

"If you want to forget it so quickly," he began, inspecting her bruises again, "then we should get you into the med bay. We can start your kissing lessons before we retire for the night. It would be a nice way to relax and warm up for even more lessons." Her cheeks were flaming red, but she appeared more pleased and a touch more indignant than angry.

Vegeta kissed her again before the two went on their way to the medical bay.

---

Kakarotto stretched out early that morning, bathing in the heat made from the man beside her. She curled up behind him, having every intention of slipping away into sleep, but her husband pulled away, and got out of bed. Abruptly awake, she sat up, rubbing one eye.

He chuckled, "Didn't mean to wake you up." He leaned down, and kissed her, but she wrapped her arms around him, dragging him back inside. Their breath left their lungs when he landed on top of her, but she didn't let a lack of air stop her. As she began to knead and work at his naked flesh, she listened to him talk, "Princess, I must go now. I have duties to focus on that need my attention."

"I need your attention," she insisted softly, and he groaned before sinking into her slowly. Her husband made sure to kiss her often, keeping her lips a dark, aroused red. Clenching her fangs did little to cease her imminent moans and cries to herself. He seemed to gorge himself on them anyway.

In another lifetime, she seemed to remember that someone once told her that her prince liked it when his women were loud in bed, and her form quivered while she realized how right they had been. It took her a long time for her mind to regroup, and by then her husband was already out of her bed. Kakarotto sighed softly, hugging over her torso as she reveled in the warmth of their brief union, and watched his bare body leave her bedchambers to greet the giggles of maids. She smiled sleepily, and curled up, trying to do as he had asked and keep her hips horizontal.

"Little princess," she felt his hand on her cheek, and she blinked awake again, blushing when she realized she had fallen asleep so easily. "I'm going to tell my mother to let you sleep a while longer for my seed to settle, all right? Just rest here – there's still hours yet until sunrise."

She nodded, and kissed his palm before she drifted back into slumber, feeling an answering soft press of lips on her brow.

---

Fanning herself, Kakarotto chewed on her tongue as she stared at the screen, weighing her options. The day had grown progressively hot that morning, informing her of the approaching summer and imperial couple. Her mother-in-law had indeed come in later than usual as her husband had asked, and the two had dined with each other in cool, aloof company before she had introduced Kakarotto to a group of other young women.

Most were older than she was, though there was a Noblewoman that was thirteen among them. Queen Arba had left her in charge of the small assembly, saying that she would instruct them in the ways of a decent and proper Noblewoman.

The thought almost made her laugh.

Unsure of what to do, she tried to think back on all of her lessons back at Lord Nuches' estate. She was certain they knew how to curtsy properly, and that one couldn't slurp while having tea, but that slurping was necessary with soup to show appreciation to the chef. In her opinion, they had so much decency and polite etiquette about them that everything that she knew of would barely fill one of their pinky nails.

Thus, she had taken them to the lush parlor in her suite, and pulled up a war game. The three-dimensional screen allowed the players to place their pieces in whatever location that they were capable of occupying – whether in the sky or on the ground. In this at least, she had the chance of dominating over them.

However, she had come across a rather strange pickle in the group by the name of Sunabi.

The woman was intelligent, and had a quick wit. So far, it seemed that their battle had come at a standstill, and neither wanted to let up. Kakarotto had breezed through the first four women as if they were nothing – much to her shame as the thirteen-year-old girl had cried after her loss. Sunabi held a firm ground though, and had gone through most of the princess' feints and plays with ease before Kakarotto reassessed her position, and started her stance over.

She wasn't sure what it would mean to her husband if she lost, but if the crying girl had told her anything, it was that she could severely shame her prince. The girl, Onya, had asked permission to call her fiancé to inform him of the terrible news, jittery and worried the entire time until Kakarotto had told her a firm negative. If Onya was worried about her fiancé's reaction, the peasant turned princess wanted to find out a way to deter anything untoward. Currently, however, Kakarotto was anxious over her game with the Lady Sunabi of the Kir'Min House.

Sunabi smiled. Her almond-shaped eyes were almost brown in color, and her dark face was a perfect oval. Yet it was her brown-red lips curved into a seductive twist of womanly might that made Kakarotto's stomach lurch in terrible irk. If she lost, could her husband's newly found affections turn to this _woman_?

"My lady, are you going to make a move or shall I serve tea now? I'm sure it will arrive by the time you figure out what you're going to do."

Her grin slowly slipping off, Sunabi answered, "Some tea would be lovely, but by the time it has arrived, I'll have beaten you and your peasant army. I'm sure it would relax you substantially"

It was Kakarotto's turn to smile, and she turned to the maid at her side, "Bring up a pot of ice white tea, and a dish of lizard hearts."

"And green wine for me." Kakarotto blinked before she turned around to face her husband. As the maid left the room, all of the women sans Kakarotto stood from their seats to curtsy deeply to the man. She found her eyes not on the prince, but the man walking strangely behind him.

The head of hair that greeted her could belong to no other man, and she stood gradually, trying to hide her shaking hands in her petticoats, pretending to move them out of the way. Her brother smiled weakly and then bowed deeply to her and the other women present.

The prince took her hand, kissing it as was suitable in front of Noblewomen, and then turned so that he was facing Radittsu, and standing beside her. He said, "Princess, this is your eunuch guard. He is only male that I will accept by your side other than myself, and my sires – may they live forever." He stroked her palm with his thumb, and she could hear a lace of confusion in his voice because she had not looked at him since he had first entered the room. "He won absolutely over the other candidates when he castrated himself with an iron nail."

---

_Ha! … Hey, he had to get in somehow, and – and – and … do you really think that Vegeta would let a functioning male guard his bride? Come on, people._

_And … that's it, I think …_


	8. War

**Live Well**

_Chapter Seven: War_

Radittsu sat beside Kakarotto with a slight wince once the prince had left them. She stared at him, continuing to fear that he might say or do something that would allude to their relation, but he did nothing except watch her. Forcing herself to turn from him, she watched Sunabi for her move, and wished that the woman didn't look so _aware_ of everything occuring around her.

Sunabi's eyes darted to her brother only twice before the man was at last ignored – to Kakarott's relief. Inspecting their game one final time, she made her move, putting several second-class soldiers against a solitary Elite of Kakarotto's army.

As the peasant army – more often referred to as the Rebellion or Rebel Army of the game – her pieces were much weaker than the army that Sunabi had chosen. Kakarotto had not been relying on their strength in the matches before, however. Instead, she had exploited weaknesses of the other armies.

Since the game screen was not set on survival mode – the peasant army's best mode to play in – she had no stockpiles to help heal her troops faster. The screen had been put into the desert arena though, and the desert arena was as much the peasants' home turf as survival mode was. They healed slower than usual, but the Rebel Army was the fastest healing army of the game, so this did no real harm to her play.

Kakarotto's Elite troops were scattered across the board in seemingly random positions, solitary and apart from the rest. Each Rebel Elite was hardly a match against even a small second-class squadron of the Grand Army – which was Sunabi's choice of army.

Many players often forgot to take into account how accurate this game tended to be.

Back in the beginning of the skirmish when she had realized Sunabi's skill, Kakarotto had sent several of her third-class soldiers to die against a squad of Elites. Those that had survived the assault were not more than fifty meters from where Sunabi's second-class squad had been recently positioned.

Rebel third-class soldiers were the fastest healing troops of the game. With the desert as their backdrop, Kakarotto's army was fully healed, and most of her third-class actually ranked among second-class due to the culling against Sunabi's Elite squad.

Culling was not commonly practiced in the game, but that was only due to the popularity of the other more powerful armies. The Imperial Army was usually unbeatable when its commander was even remotely competent, and often regarded as a cheat unless the player was a beginner. The Grand Army was the next step down, and was an army based on their crushing power. The Guard Army was made with strong pieces, but their edge was in their ability to move fast and efficiently – almost up on par with the Imperial Army.

With the Rebel Army, their only real strength was their survival skills, hunting and gathering supplies. In full-scale war games, players were supposed to handle all four armies, and the peasant army was usually given the task of stockpiling. When alone, however, culling was a necessity to strengthen it – which was where their healing came into play quite effectively.

Should Sunabi move the second-class squad into attack position, Kakarotto could easily flank it with the third-class soldiers, and crush it against her Elite. It would be a numbing blow to Sunabi's army if none survived.

After this, she predicted that it would be simple to back her down into a corner. Her only problem after this would be dealing with her Elite squadron, but all in good time. Kakarotto would have to regroup her troops after this ambush, and heal. She had no illusions that Sunabi would pass it off as a fluke. The Noblewoman would realize that the Rebels' healing properties had been used to their fullest extent, and she would have to react accordingly.

Kakarotto was hoping Sunabi just might fall apart after the attack. Yet, she wasn't sure that even that could rattle the woman enough that she would lose easily.

The plays were soon made in rapid succession. She watched her opponent's pretty face merely frown at the loss of a good squad. After the squad was lost, Kakarotto saw her brother twitch in silent laughter.

Allowing herself to smile too, Kakarotto said idly, "Hmm, the tea isn't up yet …"

---

"Wretched, wretched!" She fumed, stomping up and down the halls. Sunabi's white petticoats swung to and fro with a furiousness that she was sure Arba had never seen. The queen reached over when the young girl settled down, and touched her shoulder.

"Tell me exactly what happened. Surely, you didn't lose that badly. She must have had quite a problem against you with her army." The younger woman huffed, shoulders rankling before she smoothed her face out carefully, wary of wrinkling her beauty. As Queen Arba began to speak again, she slowly calmed down, "You're the brilliant daughter of the even more brilliant General Nappa."

"I missed a culling. A _culling_," she said, attempting to not crease the area around her eyes too much – that was where the worst of the wrinkles would appear. "It was so well done, and executed, I didn't even notice until I lost a second-ranked squad. My father would have seen it, and humiliated her, as she deserves. The little tart."

Arba sighed softly, and Sunabi bowed her head to her, "… You're forgiven, but your idea has merit." Sunabi raised a cool eyebrow before she quickly smiled in understanding. The queen nodded, and said, "If she beat you, then perhaps she should play a game with the general. It would be a grand idea to … play with that tactical mind."

"When my father is through with her, that tactical mind will be a pile of bloody, gray mush in the prince's hands."

---

Vegeta could have sworn that Bardock's hair had been different in his picture. Most of it had been off screen, but the style had a remarkable similarity to his wife's. However, up close, he saw that most spikes were in larger messier clumps. Perhaps, he had been merely mistaken.

He set the file down on the table in front of him, and stared a while longer at the squad across from it. He said, "Your files check out. The efficiency of your work in the last fifteen years has been outstanding. The first mistakes of the five years of your twenty year union are from getting to know one another, correct?" Bardock nodded for the group. Vegeta smirked, "You especially pulled this team together – in quick order too. What kind of man is so dedicated that his team gets such a great reputation?"

The third-class smiled with no humor, "A man that has little to look forward to at home." He shrugged when Vegeta sat up straight, his brows perking in curiosity, "My daughter was born fifteen years ago into a life of poverty and sickness. She finally … left our lives a few days ago. My son was never a big help with it all, and disappeared soon after the funeral. With my wife, there's been little change in her behavior because she's been grieving since my daughter's first breath in this world."

"Your loss has made you strong though," the prince stood, and reached over to shake his hand. Afterward, he sat again, and addressed the team as a whole, "You and your families will be compensated handsomely for your work on Kanassa-sei. In fact, I can assure this mercenary team a good standing in my army once the planet is cleansed."

Pambukin – the round Saiyajin – perked up after noticing that Bardock had become awfully quiet. He said cautiously, "_Your_ army, sir?"

"I think that soldiers like you deserve the best," he said, ignoring the question. By now, it was obvious that Vegeta was his father's son. Royalty didn't often go on-screen to show their faces publicly, and it was only due to the recent wedding that Vegeta had finally been allowed to reveal his face to commoners. It was no shock to him that they hadn't recognized his face. Rather, he would have been surprised if they had. "By all accounts, you should have been recruited into the Royal Army years ago. After judging your worth and power levels, I've decided to advance you all into the rank of first-class. There, you'll be among equals. With good social standing, it's not too farfetched of a thought that your grandchildren might be promoted to Elites."

The members looked excitedly at one another – all except Bardock who continued to stare at the prince, considering. Vegeta stood after a moment to appear larger, lifting his chin slightly to meet his gaze, and wondered whether the man would challenge him. Bardock grunted then, "If it's all the same to you, I'd like to stay a third-class. I must think of my wife's temperament first. I don't think a sudden shift from the simple life into that of luxury would be beneficial."

Grimacing slightly when he realized that the captain's rejection had changed the minds of his team, Vegeta thought through again, reevaluating on how to recruit them into the army. He said slowly, "I see, and I understand after a fashion. Perhaps, when she is well again, I can arrange the transfers. It would be a shame to lose skilled veterans such as yourselves."

"Maybe," Bardock said, "but I don't think she'll ever get better after this. Ever since Radittsu's disappearance-"

Vegeta jerked to attention, "Your son's name is Radittsu?"

"… What is he doing _here_?"

"I just hired the man as my wife's eunuch guard." Bardock grimaced, and the prince shrugged, "Well, this is a bad way to tell you that your son won't be continuing your line, but maybe your wife will get better when she finds out he's alive."

The man suddenly frowned, "Why do you want us in the army so much?"

He raised another brow at his astuteness, but answered, "Good soldiers like you shouldn't rot away as mercenaries for the rest of their lives. The Royal Army could always use a fresh squadron." When the captain glanced at his team, he thought, _And a third-class with your kind of strength would have too much influence over the masses. Either you will accept my offer, becoming an outsider to the third-class scum, or you will die like scum after this mission is through._

---

"You're risking everything by being here," Kakarotto whispered, looking around her parlor often. "Don't you understand subtlety at all? If you let even one clue slip, we'll both be feeling cold iron chains."

"I suspect worse than chains actually," he said dryly.

"And …!" She looked pointedly down at Radittsu's lap, "After those boasts of all the bastards you would leave across the Afafal, you forsake them all. Bardock must be furious."

Smiling wanly, he said, "Dad doesn't know … and neither does Mom."

Gaping, Kakarotto then shook her head, and sat back with a groan, "Everything was starting to go so well, Radittsu. The prince and I are trying to work through all the bumps right now. I was making progress – I could feel it … Why did you come here?"

"My little sister died."

She twitched, eyes glancing around again before she whispered, "Yes, I heard of her death a few days ago before my wedding. She's dead, Radittsu, dead and gone. You won't find her here."

"She didn't die then," he mumbled. "She left us eight years ago when she was told she was born to die. She breathed, she spoke, she ate, and she drank, but she never lived again."

Kakarotto stilled, swallowing nothing before she picked up a cup of tea, and sipped the warm drink inside. She said slowly, "That's a shame. She … could have become so many things."

"She's dead though, and I never even knew her. That's the real tragedy," Radittsu sighed, and then looked up at the ceiling before he laughed. "It's nice to see that _someone_ studied up on Dad's tactics though."

"Yes, well, the prince has a lot of books on war too." Her brother frowned, and she blinked, "What? He has them up in his study to read up on. I'm only in there to eat with the prince, and make sure he doesn't eat too much, so I have a lot of time of doing nothing. And it's not like the prince will just be allowed to become the emperor – he has to know what he's doing when on the battlefield and commanding an army."

"The prince … Doesn't he have a name?" His brow quirked in amusement, and she stared at him, not comprehending. "I mean, don't you ever say Vegeta?"

Kakarotto was about to answer with a resounding 'yes' before she stopped short in befuddlement. She played with the teacup in her hand as she recalled that, in fact, she hadn't heard the name uttered ever since their official announcement at the end of the wedding. Had she ever cried his name in passion? "No. They've always called him a prince. The king is a king, and the emperor is an emperor. I just call him my Lord Husband."

It was his turn to stare, "Is it some kind of crime to say it to their face or something? A wife should be able to call her husband whatever she wants. Say it. Vegeta."

"Vegeta," she said, rolling her eyes. "Now, don't be so dramatic. It just never came to my mind to call him that. Besides, there are three men that have the same name. It would be difficult to just call them by their names all the time." Kakarotto sighed, taking the cup to her lips again, and whispered to the side of it before she drank, "Vegeta …"

_He didn't want to be called 'Prince' by the emperor yesterday. Maybe he actually wants to be called by his real name. There's no reason to **not** call him by his name after all. It might be confusing in front of his father and grandfather though, so I'll start when we're alone._ She smiled, _Yes. That sounds good._

---

"Bardock?" Toma murmured, and touched his shoulder, "What's wrong? I thought you wanted to do this mission. Now you're acting so edgy. Was it because the prince actually showed his face? I know it's unorthodox for Royals, but he did just get married. That gives him the right to show his face now."

"Damn it," Celipa said, "if you turn superstitious on us, Bardock, I'll kick your ass. We have a job to do. A damned good one too."

He turned to face them all before he said quietly, "I think he wants me dead." His troops' expressions turned from worried, and admonishing to livid. He walked faster, saying as they followed close, "Did you notice? He really wanted me especially to join the ranks. I have influence over you guys, and it showed. If he let me do my own thing, I could turn against him and the army. Hell, for all he knows, I could actually do some damage since he was going to put us in with the first-class."

"Shit, and there's no way to turn a Saiyajin into a martyr," Toma said. "To us Saiyajin, if you're a dead, powerful third-class that would never have dirtied the prince's boots, you're still dead."

"Precisely, and putting me into the rank of first-class means that none of them would follow my lead in a thousand generations." Grunting, he rubbed his chin, "And we can't just drop out now. He'd kill me for sure."

Toma leaned over and grinned, "Just fake your own death. You've come so close to dying so many times in our missions, it's a wonder you're not dead right now anyway. Once that happens, Taanipu fakes suicide. You two could start over somewhere."

"Yeah," the female Saiyajin agreed, "no one would think there was anything wrong. She already lost her kids, and if she lost you, everyone would assume she'd off herself anyway. It's perfect."

The captain sighed, nodding with a heavy heart. _She didn't lose them. I lost them._ When they reached the exit of the palace, he peered over the marketplace, trying to remember the address of the man's pub. "I'll think about it, but I actually have a much better idea." _I've found them now though, and they're both here at the palace. Maybe I can give them back to her._

---

"We're not open," the smuggler said when he heard the door open and close, the determined footfalls echoing around the room. He put the scouter into a case, sighing when the stranger kept walking toward him. Pulling out another scouter, he began to open the back before he carefully scraped out the microchip of the previous owner, and crushed it. Setting the clasps into place again, he gave the scouter a quick polish before he put it beside the other pilfered scouter.

"Someone's asking for a job, smuggler." With a sigh, the smuggler closed the case, and glowered sourly at the alien.

"And who is this someone?" He squinted at the man. Garbed in a black cloak that smelled like it had just come from a servant's livery, the man appeared to be the smuggler's height, and of the same build. The stature piqued his interest as it was familiar in some nostalgic way. As the man continued to just stand there, his hood up and over his head in some mockery of mysticism, his lips began to twitch into a grin, "… Bardock, I didn't know that my little brother turned into a messenger boy. I'd have hired you on the spot."

"In truth, I've become a target," he said, and sat down, opposite to the smuggler who sat up straight, abruptly serious. Bardock moved as if to pull off the hood that concealed his scarred face, but the pirate shook his head, and raised a hand – a gesture meant to stop the motion. His brother ceased, and pretended that the move was meant to adjust the hem. It had been years before, but the smuggler had taught his brother some of the basics of working outside of the law. A target showing one's face when they were talking with a potential savior put both in danger.

"Tell me who wants my little brother dead. I'll do all I can to prevent your passing." A smirk passed over his features, morbid and glinting with madness, "They'll know only the cold embrace of a knife – the death of a thousand cowards."

He could just barely see the smile that curved on Bardock's thin lips, "That won't be necessary. In fact, I was hoping you would help me die."

Twitching, the space pirate growled, "Look, I know you lost your daughter, but this is madness. Radittsu – wherever the little punk is – still needs a father figure, and Taanipu would be devastated. I'm sorry I wasn't there for the funeral, but Kakarotto would have understood. You all know how hectic it can get around here."

"Kakarotto" – Bardock lifted the hem of his hood a fraction, and grinned at his older brother – "is alive. Radittsu … has been castrated, but he's relatively safe, and with her. Taanipu needs help in this too, so I'm going to say this again. She and I need to disappear so we can meet with them again."

"I see," he sat back into his seat before he frowned. "Don't let word get around that Radittsu is castrated. Or they'll make the connection that I just made." His little brother jerked, but the smuggler just grinned, "The new princess' eunuch bodyguard was just hired. I saw something about it on the news an hour ago. Now I'd love to know how you got into _that_ kind of mess, but we have some deaths to plan first."

"Not only that, but I need you to … tend to some flames. You see, I'm sure my new son-in-law doesn't know who I am, but he's the one after me. If you do me this favor, my family and I will be perfectly safe, and the Royal Family will be no more." His brother smiled after a moment, "You'll have fun; I promise, but you have to leave within the hour. Is kidnapping up your alley?"

"Kidnapping, extortion, assassinations …" Turles smirked, "Just tell me, little brother, and I'd steal the moon for you."

---

Vegeta sipped his wine, finding it more to his taste than the whiskey. The thought of the whiskey made him think of his mother, and he wondered again how she had not grimaced at its taste. Setting aside his goblet, he turned back to the papers in front of him and his father. The man had been set back for quite a few days due to the interrogations, and Vegeta had set aside his free time to help him.

Halfway through sorting out the demands, and contracts of his father's planets, he was reaching for his goblet when the vid-screen chimed. His father and he shared a look when the chime was recognized as the emperor's signature ring. Vegeta went to answer it.

"Emperor," he intoned before he bowed to the man, and then returned to his father's side. He didn't touch the papers when he saw that the king had stopped his work, and he waited as his father rose to bow properly.

After a moment, Vegeta realized that his grandfather was the only one in the room shown on the screen, and so his father said, "Father, what will you have of me?" Since the prince and king were the only two people on their side of the connection, the formalities of the court could drop.

The man that Vegeta had only met in person twice – once as an infant, and the second time at his ascension into a prince as a boy – suddenly smiled, lounging back. He said, "Nothing. I would talk with my son and grandson for a while though. I take it that your wives are acting more proper to one another." When they nodded, the king immediately, and the prince after a surprised silence, he steeped his fingers together, "What of your training, prince?"

"Very well," he said, smirking to himself in amusement, "I've reached twenty-five thousand in strength. General Nappa doesn't know what to do with me anymore."

"You've beaten us both then," the emperor said, and Vegeta twitched, not sure how to respond to that. "I'd break away from the good general now. Train on your own from now on and as often as you can. You can never know when you'll need that strength in the future. As busy as you will become as emperor, you can't expect to find the time to become much stronger other than to keep in shape. I hardly have any time at all. In closing, you must keep the blood strong."

He went silent then, and the king clapped his hand onto Vegeta's shoulder, "This duty is usually meant for the son of the prince. As of yet, however, there is no such son, so the responsibility falls to you."

"And as to the son of the prince …?"

Vegeta's head spun, going around, and thinking of everything that had just been said to him before he finally found his footing. He said, "I've seen no signs yet. At any rate, she's still young, and we've only been consummating the marriage for less than a week."

The emperor nodded, "I look forward to the sight of the true heir of the prince. May it be soon." He smiled wryly, "If only I had not rushed forward as I did. You would still just be an heir apparent, Prince, and you, King, would be the Prince Heir." Frowning, Vegeta inspected his grandfather, wondering at the odd words. "How I've messed up our world in my greed. In my time, I had been powerful too, grandson." Vegeta swallowed uneasily. "The moment I realized that my current wife was capable, and that my current son was the true heir, I struck, soon gaining the emperor's throne. I've never done anything more foolish since."

"I've realized your mistakes," Vegeta said carefully. "It is not my intention to further spoil our line."

"Indeed," the king said, "you've bettered it. Once your true wife and heir have been discovered, your duty to uphold your strength shall be lessened, and passed on to your son. After that, we can finally start to concentrate on the Saiyajin Empire with all our will."

"As it should be," his grandfather said. "Then this unnecessary culling can stop." His father cut his eyes to the man, looking rather insistant for silence before the emperor just shook his head. "He'll learn on his own in good time. I can only pray that he won't be too angry."

---

_No! Angry!? Angry over what!? Waaaaaah! … -shrugs- You'll find out when the prince does, now quit your bitching._

_And yes, Turles is now here._

_You may all bow down now._

---


	9. Thievery

**Live Well**

_Chapter Eight: Thievery_

"Daddy," Sunabi patted Nappa's thickly corded arm with a beautiful smile, "I just found a new game player for you."

He raised a brow at her, considering before he said, "One of those noblewomen, I take it. Since they're the only people you've been with all day."

She decided not to mention her conversation with the queen just yet. He had to be shown in due time, but the timing was not quite right, "Naturally. However, the new player I've learned of isn't a noblewoman, but Princess Kakarotto. Wouldn't that be a thrill?"

"Ah, winning to a First Bride would not be thrilling at all, precious," he said, and turned back to the board in front of him, placing the tokens – each representing a very real platoon of soldiers – into positions that the emperor required. Sunabi almost curled her lips into rage before she carefully calmed herself, remembering her late mother's instructions to never wrinkle her face in such ways.

Attempting again, she leaned in, "Daddy, you don't understand. She's good."

He grunted, and snapped a token down a bit harder than he probably should have. "So she trumped her new ladies-in-waiting. That's not so hard to do, precious."

"But," she began, "to do all that, and then beat me?"

Nappa went still then, his eyes staring through the war board and its tokens, "With ease?"

Lips pursed before she smoothed that away, hoping she had done no damage to her skin, "Once she saw my potential, yes."

"She underestimated the daughter of a Saiyajin General?" Nappa laughed, and slid another token into a place on the board. "What a foolish child. If it weren't for all this business of picking out the weak females, you would be betrothed to the prince. Hell," he said, "you would be married to him right now, and probably fat with child. It's a shame what this world is coming to though." Making a fist, he set his elbow on the table to rest his chin on his fist, "When the prince goes through these first ten or so wives, maybe it wouldn't be too late, and I could talk with the queen about you."

It seemed that she would not have to convince her father of anything at all. Smiles were all right for her skin in small degrees. Her mother had said once that smile lines were actually attractive to husbands if both husband and wife became old together. So Sunabi smiled.

"Would you play a match with her, Daddy? Just once would be spectacular," she said.

"Once," he grunted.

"We could make a sport of it too," Sunabi said. "I heard that the emperor hasn't seen a war-game match in ages. Perhaps, a battle between two wits like you would please him." He cast a raised brow at her again, but she whipped out a fan to cover the lower half of her face, keeping her eyes perfectly calm, and her face smooth. "Perhaps you could play a war-game in history mode?"

---

Vegeta dragged himself to his wife's chambers sometime after dark – he wasn't entirely sure of the hour, but it was dark, and he knew that she was likely deeply asleep. He figured that he could lay with her while she slept before he joined her in slumber. Grinning at the perverse thought, he pushed open the doors that led into her foyer. The sight of Radittsu with the maids surprised him only for a moment before remembering that the eunuch was required to be at her side like the maids and slaves.

Smirking to himself, he went into Kakarotto's sleeping chambers. His tail twitched against his stomach as he saw the rise and fall of her breast. Closing the door behind him, he crept carefully to the bed, and laid out beside her after stripping. She sighed, and rolled close to his heat.

He debated whether he should awaken her, marveling at the sight of her, and his change in attitude. To be sure, women were still rather useless in terms of the more important aspects of a prosperous life. However, he found that the _means_ to a prosperous life were appreciated far greater. _She **has** proven some skill in finding good food to fill me though. I suppose that fits in with seasonings and wheat,_ he thought. _I haven't busted a shirt in days._

Kakarotto's eyes opened, and he bent down to kiss her. "Hmm?" She asked, and he tossed away every other thought on his mind other than ravaging her.

He was just wondering how deep he could really get into her when she sighed, and arched, causing him to hitch his breath. It was not from her movement that had made his breath catch – though it had certainly helped – but he had noticed the fuller shape of her bosom. His lapse in concentration cost him prematurely, and he husked, thrusting jaggedly until he was spent.

She gazed up at him, likely aching and confused while his entire body hummed wonderfully from his release. Laying next to her, he grunted tiredly, but his pride and conscience wouldn't let him sleep. His wife curled under his arm readily enough, but he could feel her small form still shaking, and knew that it would be a long while before she would fall sleep.

He watched Kakarotto close her eyes, and he cleared his throat, "Princess?"

"Yes, sire?" She said, and clutched earnestly to his arm. He could almost feel her ache through her touch, and he cradled her head to his chest before lowering his head to kiss and nuzzle her face.

Kakarotto sighed openmouthed, and he kissed her there, sucking onto her tongue heatedly, and pulling her closer. Her thigh pressed against his groin, but he knew he might not rise again that night, and Vegeta reluctantly pushed her legs away. The fatigue of the day was an unfortunate side effect in his nightlife, but one that he would soon work to overcome if he was to beget a child from his wife.

Vegeta paused to undo slowly the front latches of the blouse that was pressing her breasts up. Her bare chest was heaving as she watched him, and he tried to resist finding other ways to make her ache and scream and breathe so her breasts swell with every inhalation. Concentrating on the veins through her milky skin, he carefully noted whether the veins had thickened or had become more obvious since their first union. After a moment, he kissed one breast, and then ducked his head under their blankets to take a deep breath of her scents.

He heard her whimper – whimper! – causing his façade to nearly crack, but he only attempted to discern whether there were any differences in her alluring aroma. Sighing when he couldn't smell anything obvious, he laid beside her, starting to pet and stroke her into high arousal again.

---

Turles hummed to himself after he landed his ship, beginning the lockdown procedures before he finally exited, admiring the architecture of the government building of Kanassa-sei. It was a shame that it would be destroyed as 'proof,' but he decided not to let that bring him down. While he was inside, he would be able to snatch whatever fancied him for pawning anyway, and that would make up for quite a few misgivings he had of Bardock destroying the grand palace.

He crept along the rooftops towards the palace, remembering Bardock's warning that the Kanassajin would likely not be friendly to an unauthorized Saiyajin on the planet. On Kanassa-sei, the sun was still high in the sky, but he knew it was night on Vegeta-sei. His brother and his team would not arrive until it was early morning on Vegeta-sei, and that was when Turles had to be gone.

However, he also had to make sure that his intended targets were still in office up until the very last moment. In the confusion of the attacking Saiyajin, he could snatch them away without anyone alerting the media, and thus warning the Saiyajin Royalty that they still yet lived.

When he settled atop the roof, Turles took to watching the odd fish-faced people of this planet, wondering if they even tasted like fish as well. It seemed that Bardock and his crew might have a nice farewell meal before Bardock had to 'die.'

---

Kakarotto hummed softly while she ate, sitting across the table from the prince. She was sore, and her breasts were still aching from his attentions and touches, though she was not complaining in any form. Momentarily, she wondered if he would be willing to stroke and please her again that night, or if he would want to help her soothe her slightly dry nipples with oils, wanting to feel his rough hands massage sweet-scented perfumes into her flesh.

Glancing up at him, she smiled to herself when it seemed that he was enjoying his breakfast with her. He raised an aristocratic brow at her when she continued to peek and smile at him, and he finally gave a devilish grin in turn, appearing to read her mind, "Princess …"

"Vegeta," she breathed out, and he didn't say anything for a while, obviously not comprehending the word until both eyebrows rose halfway up his forehead. Kakarotto's cheeks flushed hard, and she continued, "About last night, it was wonderful." She watched his nostrils flare slightly, and she swallowed nothing as she watched him coil up with his eyes intently focused on her. Kakarotto said, "Tonight, I thought that – if time permits you – we could have dinner in my chambers and entertain another until nightfall."

"Say that again," he said.

She knew exactly what he was talking about, and answered, "Vegeta, would you please come to my chambers tonight?"

"No," Vegeta said, and her chest crumpled slightly before he continued, his voice slightly excited about the prospects, and his eyes glinting, "you will come to my chambers. There we shall dine, and then go straight to bed. That is, if we even reach my bed."

Kakarotto nodded just as the door opened, and she forced away what redness she had on her face, watching the queen as she bent down to kiss his forehead, "Prince, we've received word of the date of your grandparents' arrival." He – already composed and having only a slight gleam in his eyes – glanced up at the queen, and nodded for her to continue, "They're coming at the end of the month. They said that they have a gift for you as well."

"Really? Is it a wedding gift?" He returned to his meal, but turned his eyes so that he could watch Kakarotto, and smirked when she felt her cheeks redden.

"They didn't say. Gifts are usually surprises anyway. Also, Princess," Queen Arba looked down at her, her chin rising, "General Nappa has challenged you to a war game to celebrate in front of the emperor and empress when they arrive." When their eyes widened, she said with a small smile, "When he heard that you beat his daughter, he wanted a chance to test your skills, and asked my permission."

Vegeta's lips pursed slightly, and he inspected Kakarotto a bit more closely, "My wife won against … Sunabi?" Drumming his hands on the tabletop, the lust in his eyes was gone completely, and in its place was a tactical mind that was spinning and turning at a pace that she could not quite discern. He said, "That's quite the feat."

The princess clenched her fists into her skirts under the table, glancing at Radittsu who appeared slightly alarmed, "Is it? I was just playing a sporting game. I didn't think anything would come of it."

He chuckled, leaning back into his chair, "Sunabi is the only beloved child of General Nappa. She was instructed in the art of war before she could walk – the same as I. She might have only underestimated you, Princess. Don't think that you can win against her teacher – the general himself – so easily." Smirking when Kakarotto merely returned to her meal, he said, "I'm sure that you play well though. Maybe I can play a teaching game with you sometime."

"I beat her Grand Army with a Peasant Army."

His eyes narrowed before he nodded, "Ah, you did a culling. A simple tactic, but dangerous. I doubt that you'd be able to play the same way against the general. Sunabi is sure to have told him everything." He smiled at his mother, and took her hand to kiss it, "Did he say what kind of game mode he wanted to play?"

"History mode," Arba said, "since the princess seemed to love her Rebel Army so, Sunabi suggested that she might like to reenact the Talji'Be Rebellion."

"Sunabi is certainly cruel to my wife," he said in amusement. "She must be testing her. Not many can win with that scenario. At least, I know of none that have. You, Mother?"

Kakarotto saw her mother-in-law whip out her fan, covering the lower half of her face, and nothing glinted in her eyes, "None, Prince. Even the good general has never beaten the scenario as the Rebel Army."

The Talji'Be Rebellion had not been so long ago, but the impact of that rebellion still troubled many commoners of the Empire. It had started due to the words of a single child to a foot-soldier over ninety years ago, and then had echoed down the streets to form into one sole battle-cry about which many veterans still laugh.

'_I can.'_

No other battle before or since could compare to the amount of lives and spirit lost in the peasant population. In the game scenario – just as it had been in actual events – the entire Saiyajin Army would be based at the palace, which meant that, while Kakarotto would have control over a massive army of rebels, General Nappa would be commanding the Guard, Grand, and Imperial Armies. Nearly two-thirds of the city's population had been annihilated in only days.

If an entire city – joined in arms as one body – could not defeat the Saiyajin Army, who could?

Kakarotto relaxed her hands in her skirts, and then looked at her guard again who was exceedingly pale. He tried to smile at her, but she knew that look. Radittsu could see no way to win. She could remember playing the scenario as a teaching method in Lord Nuches' estate, and with her father at the Night Watch's office. None of them had come up with any alternative to the scenario other than losing with dignity.

The only person she could remember that had even hinted at a strategy had been her father's tricky older brother, Turles. She recalled his conversation with her father while she had been watching them play in the office:

---

"_It's so easy," he mumbled suddenly, and picked up his fruit to bite into it, sucking up what juices dripped down his chin._

"_What is?" Bardock asked, putting his orders into the computer before smirking at him, and then said, "Losing? I don't see why you keep wanting to play this scenario. I know you're good, but you're not that good."_

"_Papa," she said, "you're going to win?"_

_He stroked her hair gently, causing a little chirp from her lips, "Yes, little one. The Saiyajin Army never loses."_

_Turles laughed softly, starting to play his orders after inspecting something on his screen, "You can't go in with that kind of attitude, Bardock. You must always think you're going to win, or all else is lost." He winked at her, "So don't listen to him, Kakarotto. Your papa's just a cranky old man that thinks he's always right. Never ever listen to him."_

_She said, "But he's my papa. He is always right!"_

"_Don't think that," he said._

"_Leave her be, Turles." Bardock said, "You'll put ideas in her poor little head."_

"_There's nothing wrong with ideas. Did you hear that, Kakarotto? Your papa doesn't want you to think!"_

"_I can think! I can think, Turles!"_

"_But, Kakarotto, you said that your papa is always right." He smirked at her father, teasing, and totally sure of himself, "If he thinks that you shouldn't think, then you should stop right now."_

"_No!"_

_While Turles laughed, Bardock seethed, saying, "Damn it, Turles, that's not what I meant, and you know it."_

"_So why'd you say it? Is it that she can have thoughts and ideas of her own in there, but she can't use them?" He smiled, and kissed Kakarotto's cheek when she began tugging on his arm, and batting it with a small fist, "You're a sharp little girl, aren't you? Tell you what, I'll show you a super secretive secret when you're older, and then you'll know everything in the world."_

_She paused to pout at him, "Everything?"_

"_And more," he said. "In the air, on the ground, on the streets, in every home, in the palace, and … then I'll show you the secret. Seeing is not always believing." He finished his command to his peasant troops, and Bardock scowled at his screen abruptly._

"_How did that player get there? Turles, did you rig the board again? I'm going to kill you if I have to replace this one too!"_

_Turles kissed the top of her head, "I didn't cheat. You can even open it up to see – since you need to see it to even know what it is." He smiled at her, and winked again. "I can."_

---

Kakarotto finished her meal in silence with her husband after the queen left, and she rose after he did, merely glancing back to make certain that the servants were clearing the table. Before Vegeta left to go to his office, she gently held his wrist, and he stopped to look at her questioningly. First, she whispered Radittsu away to go to the library before she turned to him again. She didn't say anything, but she stepped in front of him to check over his shirt and buttons to see whether it was too tight or not.

He grinned, and played with her hair, making her look up, "Are you nervous, Princess? You shouldn't be. As my First Wife, a loss with this scenario wouldn't shame me at all. Besides, against the general, it might even honor me if you lost with some dignity and poise."

"Prince," she said, and he seemed to wince, but she didn't retract it, "I'm going to be in the library if you need me to change your lunchtime to fit in your work."

"The library?" He laughed, and said, "It is impossible to win against the Saiyajin Army. The game is so real that no one has ever found a way around it, and yet you're going to attempt it? You can't think to find a way in those books to win that scenario."

"I can, Vegeta," Kakarotto said, and he growled, pressing her against the wall before sliding her up so that they were face-to-face. As her heart hammered away, he dove in to kiss her, grasping tightly at her hips to grind his thigh between her legs. She smiled, and arched slightly as his thigh kept her up securely. "What?" She asked. "Did you like something you heard?" With another husky growl, he claimed her neck, sucking there, and then his thumbs kneading her breasts through her gown since her skirts were too thick to work at any sweet spots lower than her waist. As such, she was aching from just his kisses.

"I should punish you for saying that, Princess. Talking like some little commoner," he husked breathlessly to her lips, and she smiled privately to herself. "Go to my room."

Eyes widening, she clutched at his shoulders when he let her down, "What? What about your work? And you have a meeting with the emper-" She went still in shock as he started to stroke, and fondle her tail, causing her knees to turn to jelly, and she lost all thought processes in the procedure other than 'how fast can he rip this thing off.' Kakarotto suddenly remembered something, and said as he led her away, "Vegeta, you can't ruin all these skirts, I'd have to walk back to my room naked."

"So I'll only ruin one or two." He turned on his scouter, and contacted someone on it, "General, it seems I'm going to be a bit busier than I thought. Hold up the office there, and call me when the emperor is there for the meeting. If I'm late, tell him that I'm dealing with a commoner." She beamed, and kissed his neck, making him grasp at her waist tighter, and thumbed some of her tail glands, "Scratch that, I think she's a rebel."

---

Sighing heavily, Vegeta laid his head beside her finally, exhausted, but knowing that every moment of his punishment was worth it. With his duties delayed due to his and her amorous nature that morning – and afternoon – his father and grandfather had talked to him well into the night about … _Gods, I can't even remember what they were lecturing. I just want to touch and feel her more._

"Kakarotto."

He turned his head to nuzzle her soft hair and the nape of her neck, gently touching her shoulders and down her back to where her tail was slowly wagging. Stirring, she peered over her shoulder at him before shifting so that she was on her hands and knees, and his stomach knotted when saw the wonderful offer. Vegeta groaned before he was hovering over her, quivering as he worked almost feverishly, his senses heightened, and near to overloading his brain. It didn't help that she seemed to be under the same spell as he, taunting him into tasting and fondling her flesh.

His princess arched and twisted about, obviously begging for more. He stopped counting the times that he claimed her, and just concentrated on filling her up with enough lube so that she wouldn't be hurting so much in the morning, but almost abruptly, he realized there was none left, and he sat, staring at the bottle with no clear comprehension on his features. Vegeta shuddered when she wrapped her arms around his torso from behind, and pressed her tight form against his back.

Twitching before he moaned, Vegeta turned in her arms, pushing her onto her back, the bottle and its contents forgotten while he explored every little crevice that he could find. Sometime later, he realized that there was daylight streaking into his chambers, and he looked to his bedside to see a beat red maid who was carrying several bottles of lube on a tray.

"For – for the princess. Since she's in heat, the king will take care of your obligations for the duration of her-" she said before he almost tore one of her arms off to get a bottle, not even waiting for the young woman to shriek and run before he applied a very generous amount to his likely sore wife.

---

_I'm uh … XP Shut up, I couldn't help but do the 'in heat' bit. Besides, they're a little pressing for time in this story, and I need to crunch in as much of it out as possible before I move or I'll get all distracted again._

---


	10. The Cards Dealt

**Live Well**

_Chapter Nine: The Cards Dealt_

"You're joking," she said, a beat red, with ears growing hotter by the moment. Her brother could only shrug helplessly, embarrassed for her as well.

"Sorry to say it, but ah … I went to check on you in the prince's room, and I guess I should've thought to listen more carefully. You must've been pinned to that spot for hours before I came in, and I saw the lube bottle was empty, so I ran to find a maid to find some more, and then I told the king. That was … almost two weeks ago. You two were in a daze the whole time." He shrugged, trying a smile out for her, "At least, you got to skip all of that worrying about the war game with the general today."

Gritting her fangs, she gripped her black petticoats, ready to shred them in her fists, "I lost all of that time to figure out what he meant! I was going to follow you to the library, remember? I needed to learn as much as I could, and see if you remembered anything."

"Huh?" He raised a bushy brow at her, "Remembered what? And what who meant?"

"Turles," she whispered, grasping his hand to emphasize the name, watching his pupils shrink. "I think he knew a way to beat the scenario. He said something to me once. That he was going to show me some kind of secret, and that it was in every home, on the streets, and even in the palace. He knew something, Radittsu."

"That … indecent, over glorified, pompous smuggler? Kaka – _Princess_, I'm sorry, but you're fucking crazy." She smacked him upside the head, and started to pace slightly. He growled, and held his head, "What the hell? Your punch is stronger." Kakarotto paused to scowl at him, but he waved his hand to placate her, "It is! I didn't know you got training when you were here."

She sighed, and sat down, rubbing her arms, "I haven't been, Radittsu. It's my gowns. They're heavy, and because I have to walk, and dance, and curtsy and do everything in them, I have to adjust. They seem to get heavier everyday too." When he nodded in understanding, she said, "I'm sorry for hitting you, but I need to figure something out. Even if I don't win, I want to go out with a bang."

"This will be the first time you'll really be meeting the emperor and empress face-to-face, isn't it?" Nodding, Kakarotto stood again, walking to the mirrors beside her enormous walk-in closet, and looked into the mirror, "Well … I don't remember anything that Turles ever said about that game scenario. Besides, all he ever did was rig the board to make his pieces appear out of nowhere."

Tilting her head to the side, she watched her hair sway, "Turles did that then too … He said there was something we weren't seeing. Or maybe the secret was something we couldn't see, and he teased Bardock that he was foolish for having to see it for himself rather than just know it was there."

"So it's something that's definitely real, but it's something you can't see. Maybe it's something you can't see on the board, and that you have to trust it to actually be there."

"In every home? And even in the palace there's something we can't see on the board."

Radittsu grinned, and leaned forward to egg the conversation on, "We can see the ground, the homes and the palace."

"In the air … and the streets are going to be the exact same as the streets had been back then. It will be realistic to every minute detail. But will the game have what we can't see? No it must, or Turles would have never told me any of that." She thumbed and pinched her lips idly, thinking through before she frowned, "Turles is a smuggler, and smugglers have many secrets."

"I'd think they would have to, Princess," he said dryly.

Standing a bit taller, she said quietly, watching Radittsu lean in to hear better, "And smugglers have to have secret compartments, and secret weapons …"

"They have the caverns below the city!" He burst out suddenly, and she gaped incredulously, "He showed them to me once. In his house was an old service chute to the caverns and sewers, and he used them to transport goods to and from other cities and the palace. He knew how to navigate underneath the ground, and when we thought he was making pieces appear out of nowhere, he was really moving the pieces out from underground. They must've crawled out from other service chutes or manholes, and that's how he always surprised me and Dad."

Kakarotto turned to him, grabbing his hands to shake them with a beaming smile, "They lead straight to the palace, and there's a way down in almost every home of the capital! I can hide my troops underground and let them heal there or stage surprise attacks for the general's army."

"Screw losing with a bang. You really _can_ win that scenario, Kakarotto. Do it! You'll knock his scouter off when the first piece appears out of nowhere!"

"I don't know the caverns like Turles does though, Radittsu. We still need to go to the library. Could you-?" They both stiffened when the door was knocked upon by someone, and Kakarotto straightened from Radittsu, saying, "Come."

Her husband strode in, a large bouquet of crimson and sapphire flowers in his arms that he bestowed into her arms before kissing her cheek. He said, "Good morning, Princess. You look radiant."

She smiled, "I'm still just in my sleeping garments."

"I know," he said, and he kissed her other cheek while she petted the flowers in her arms. "I trust that the regen-tank healed any sores I caused." She felt a warm flush of delight course through her, and Kakarotto tried to convey to Radittsu that he could leave a while – never mind the fact that they'd been at it for the past two weeks. However, Vegeta then stepped back slightly, her shoulders in his hands as he admired her, "Today, you mustn't wear anything too tight across your abdomen, Princess, or any other day after today for a long while since it's not safe yet."

Kakarotto blinked, slightly confused, and asked, "Lord Husband, what are you talking about? What's not safe for me? My corsets were never too tight for me before."

He touched her lower abdomen, and her eyes widened abruptly, "Princess, you were in heat for almost two weeks. That's a long enough time for me to create my heir within you. You're in the very tender and early stage of pregnancy, and I can't allow even this tiny flicker of life go out. You will wear looser clothes to not put pressure on your stomach, and keep away from fumes that are dangerous for the infant."

"I didn't take any test though, sire. How would you know I'm pregnant or not?"

"The regen-tank sensed the anomaly, diagnosed the condition, and told your doctor, who then just now told me. You have a new doctor, by the way."

She said faintly, "I didn't know that I even had a doctor."

"You did. Now you have a new one. I killed the old doctor once he told me." He leaned in to kiss her lips lightly, and she abruptly realized she could smell blood mixed with soap from an attempt to cover the stench, "None but the Royal Family and your bodyguard must know, Princess. Kill any that discover the possible heir's entry into the world." Kakarotto nodded, laying her bouquet upon her bed as he turned to Radittsu, "I'm sure that you understand the implications as well. Tell even half of a soul, and I'll rip out your spine – tail first."

"Sire," he bowed deeply after rising, and waited like that until Vegeta gave him permission to stand straight.

Vegeta nuzzled her hair then, and said, "There's a downside to this if you didn't know. Along with making sure you are well and not putting pressure on your womb, I must stop laying with you until we are certain that this embryo will pull through."

Smiling, she gently touched his shoulder, saying, "I pray that you don't suffer too much without me, my Lord." He quirked a brow in amusement, and she smirked in turn, rubbing his biceps and chest, "After all, being without your wonderful wife for an unknown extended period of time must vex you so."

"On the contrary," he said, "I think I'll take this opportunity to try on some of your maids. They're new to the palace, and probably have not yet been broken in." Her mouth slowly fell open, and she glanced at Radittsu who didn't look too surprised. Vegeta frowned, "What? They're clean, Princess. Have no fear of that. We check them persistently. Besides, you can join us anytime, and I'll still touch you however you like."

She slapped him, murderous and ready to punch him in the gut before he caught her fist and then the next with some difficulty. Snarling, he pushed her easily onto her knees and panted slightly in shock as she said, "Don't you dare! _I'm_ your wife!"

"What you are is ridiculous! Fine, I'll take your slaves instead if you don't want paid help to get what whores get on the street." At her fiercer scowl, he said, "You can't be serious, Kakarotto. You're not going to be the only woman I'll take to bed. I'm the prince, and still a man. I have my needs."

"I have my own needs, _Lord Husband_," she said.

Vegeta snorted, and said, "I satisfy your needs just fine. I probably exceed them from what I remember of your shrieking."

"No. I need you to not touch another woman when you're married to me." When he twitched just slightly, Kakarotto froze, "You haven't been with another since we've been married, right?"

"I've taken several of my maids already," he said slowly, keeping his eyes level with hers. "I lessened my intake when I started teaching you more on the act, but only to give myself the energy to endure your clumsy pawing. You are not what I want in a wife – I've told you that already. I'm surprised you've forgotten so easily. I try to please you, yes, but you're my wife. A husband is required to dote upon his wife and give flowers and stroke her hair at night and at least be decent to her in their beds."

Since they were in reach, she grabbed the bouquet on her bed, and slapped it across his face several times, hoping they had thorns. "Then stay out of my bed! And take these hideous things with you! You have no idea how to treat a wife!"

It seemed that the flowers had none, but her words appeared to sting him awfully. Vegeta stood after collecting the heap of flowers she had dumped in front of him. Going to her door, he stopped only long enough to turn, bowing slightly as he said through his fangs, "As you please … Princess."

He shut the door silently, and she got off her knees to pad to the drawstring, calling her maids and slaves to enter. The women – having heard everything and likely having seen the irate prince – all bundled into her room, and Kakarotto watched through the door as Vegeta paused at the atrium door, a flower in one hand while the rest of the ruined bouquet was cradled in his other arm. She observed as he turned to face her, tilting his head as if expecting her to say something.

Kakarotto realized that she did have something, and said, "If I'm to be a requirement, then I want you to require only me. Should I win the scenario today, would you never take another woman as long as we're married?"

"If you …?" He laughed without mirth, and crushed the flower in his hand, "That's as impossible as winning the scenario. Vegetas never stick with only one woman."

"I'm only talking to one Vegeta, right now," she said, and he grimaced. "If the scenario is impossible to beat, then I suppose that you have nothing to lose if we bet on it." His brows twitched, but he raised his chin up after he nodded an agreement, "If I lose, you can take whoever you please whenever. Myself included, of course. If I win the scenario, then you must do the impossible too, and take only me … in whatever way you please." Vegeta's eyes widened, and he eyed her up and down slowly, obviously remembering the night they had chosen to forget. When he nodded once more, she said, "That's a small price to pay for keeping me as your only lover."

"If someone had told me three weeks ago about what you would do to me," he said, "I'd have laughed in his face, and then killed him, but I accept this little gamble, Princess Kakarotto. We'll see who I'll be taking to bed later tonight."

---

When she found herself standing beside her husband a few hours later, it all came rushing back to her as the imperial couple entered the room.

_Dear gods, I'm pregnant,_ she suddenly felt slightly elated, and considered running to Radittsu to make him tell their parents, or out to the window and shout it, but instead she gripped Vegeta's arm causing him to jerk in shock. Nausea swept through, and her aching knees – from the twenty black petticoats with their five overcoats of differently layered hues of blue – buckled. Kakarotto wobbled, but her husband tightened his grip to make her catch herself.

She nodded to him in thanks, and glanced at the emperor and empress to see if they had noticed her slip, but they hardly looked willing to pay a First Wife any mind. When she realized Vegeta's eyes were on her, she placed her palm near her lower abdomen to indicate the child, and took a deep breath. Vegeta seemed to understand her gestures that the baby had caused some discomfort, and left it at that while they waited for his grandparents and parents to be seated at the dining table before joining them.

The emperor stood at the head of the table, nodding to them all in turn before he motioned to the servants to leave and lock the doors. Their food had been tested for poison already, and everything was well and good, and – more importantly – already there for them to pick from and eat.

After they had gone, the emperor seemed to relax as only royalty was now in the room, "It's a pleasure to sit with my son and grandson finally after fifteen long years." He bowed his head to Queen Arba, "My dear." The man stopped to inspect Kakarotto where she sat at the other end from them and across from the prince, and then nodded to her "It's another pleasure to meet my first granddaughter-in-law." She attempted a smile, bowing to him from her chair, and wondered if Vegeta had told any of them about the child. He tilted his head slightly, and smirked while glancing at her husband, "And congratulations to you two as well. Though I'm not surprised, grandson, that our lecture went straight over your head."

"Over it and into the next week," Vegeta said dryly, obviously considering everything that he had to catch up on in his office.

Chuckling, the man sat down, "Indeed."

"Little prince," the empress said, and smiled, "come here. I have something for you." The prince sighed slightly, and rose with a small smile for his grandmother, standing beside her chair. She held out her hand, and beckoned him to bend down, her fangs flashing bright white as she waited. Vegeta raised a brow, but did as Nogao had asked, and suddenly flushed in embarrassment when she kissed his cheek, "Oh, I've missed my grandson so." The beautiful woman stood up while Kakarotto's husband changed into several different hues, and she then patted his shoulders before blinking slightly. "You're taller."

"Of course, I am. I was a boy when you last gave me a 'gift' like that." She seemed to pout when Vegeta rubbed at his cheek, but then with her voluptuous lips it seemed like the empress was always pouting. He sighed, arms crossed over his chest, "Just what are you talking about?"

"I see you on the vid-screens all the time though, and you're taller than before you disappeared to do your" – she glanced over at Kakarotto, the pout forming into a sort of smirk – "duties. You're filling out well too! What kind of training have you been doing?"

"Stop pawing at your grandson, Nogao." She smiled indulgently at the emperor, and returned to her seat, still shooting slightly confused looks at Vegeta form as he went to his own chair.

Kakarotto knew what the confusion was over, and she was slightly surprised herself. The change hadn't been much, but it was obvious that his new diet had taken almost instant effect, and he was starting to fill in, and had become taller. She admired his physique before going back to her meal, not exactly feeling hungry herself, but she figured that she should eat to keep his heir going. Pausing suddenly, she blinked slowly at the train of thought, _His … heir … It … the baby is still my child too though – not just his heir. Gods, I don't know how to care for an infant. Peasants send them off world, and don't usually see them again until they're much older!_

"I heard that General Nappa has prepared a spectacle for me," the emperor said. "Just what is that about now? The nobles seem to be all in a titter about it." He looked evenly at the king, "I assume that you already know what this is about then?"

"It was the general's daughter's idea," he said, and he gestured down at Kakarotto. "The general is going to play a war-game match with the prince's First Wife for your entertainment. It will be on history mode, and the scenario is the Talji'Be Rebellion." When the emperor's eyebrows cocked up a notch, her father-in-law explained, "Princess Kakarotto seems to be a good player. She beat the general's daughter with the rebels – and the rest of the women in her court. He thought that she might like to continue playing as the rebels, so she will be playing their side."

He cast a sidelong look at her before shaking his head, "That's not very sporting of him, and I've little mind to indulge such a preposterous thing." Kakarotto sat up straighter, beginning to feel a scowl come over her features, but then Emperor Vegeta said, "_I'd_ like to play her in that scenario." He smirked at her slightly pale face, "Indeed, and isn't there a multiple player feature with that scenario as well? I would play as the emperor, my son as the king, and my grandson as the prince …"

"That's exceedingly harsh," Vegeta said, smirking over his fork at Kakarotto, and she considered flipping the table so she could squash him underneath. "Three experts again an amateur that won by a fluke?"

"Even so, it's what I'd like to do," the emperor said. He nodded to her when he caught her look. "This would be a nice way to know your worth."

_Just as I thought. It seems that carrying the heir doesn't guarantee my life, but if that's true, then what will?_ She felt the new fan that she was carrying besides the one given to her by the queen, silently thanking her brother a thousand times over. He had worked from the moment Vegeta had left to mere seconds before she had gone to join her in-laws for supper. "I'd be happy to play with you all." She looked at Vegeta, and said, "And I imagine that this doesn't change our deal."

The prince sat back with a laugh, "No, it doesn't. Strive to win all you like. It's as impossible to beat as a Vegeta keeping to one woman."

"As long as I live, yes?"

He blinked, and then smirked to cover it, "Naturally."

As one, the empress and queen whipped out their fans, the queen starting, **What a silly thing this one is. Much sillier than your husband's First Wife.**

**She's younger than her as well if I remember correctly,** Arba said.

The men ate, speaking over the soft flap of fans as if they weren't there. The emperor asked, "Just what is this about then, grandson?"

"We have a bet," he said, grinning at Kakarotto. "If she wins the scenario, then I must do the impossible as well, and bed only her until the end of our marriage." The king and emperor laughed, and Vegeta shared a grin with the two, "I know, but not everything you told me went over my head. I remembered your advice to indulge her. She's a sweet thing, really."

The king asked, "Is that why you smelled like you washed in her flowers this morning?"

His smile disappeared to be replaced by a large grimace, "Actually no. She didn't appreciate the gesture, and slapped me with the lot of them."

**Which accounts for how ridiculous she is then.** The empress cast an inquisitive glance at the princess, but Kakarotto deigned not to join, and opted to watch, listen, and eat. This next part seemed to be directed at her this time, however, **It won't be long now. While your husband is responsible for protecting the child when it's in the womb, within a week of its birth, you'll be dead no matter what. Seventy percent of all First Wives die in the first week. Only one First Wife survived to four months after giving birth, and no other has lived past that mark.**

_This war-game is not how my worth can be told then,_ she smiled at her, causing her long eyes to actually widen a bit. _Thank you for telling me that my worth has something to do with the baby. I plan to win … Nogao, Arba. Both this game, and my life back!_

---

_Tired, tired, tired … One surprise after another with this fic, eh? Eh!? Um … yeah, so I'm moving this Monday, and I'm not sure when I'll be able to start seriously writing this stuff again._

_A load off my mind right now though is that Up for Interpretation is finally over. The sequel is still in the works in my head, but for now it's not something I'm going to fret over for quite a few months._

_If you can't tell already, next chapter will be the awesome, exciting war-game thing … which will hopefully knock even some of your guys' socks off too. They aren't Royalty because they look pretty, you know … :D And maybe there'll be time for me to write about something else to make people furious, but say 'Ooh! I get it now!' as well._

_Tired, tired, tired …_

---


	11. Fan Play

**Live Well**

_Chapter Ten: Fan Play_

Vegeta watched his wife over on the other side of the board. She seemed rather calm even faced against him, his father, and his grandfather. All three were veterans of the game, and of actual real-time battles, and this game was nothing to them. They had led armies into battle, and conquered entire galaxies, but his wife sat unaffected and calm.

She merely smiled behind the new fan her eunuch guard had given to her. His grandfather nodded to him, and patted his shoulder, "This will prove interesting."

"For a few minutes," the king said. As strange as his father was, Vegeta could already see the keen edge of battle coming over the man, and he knew that his father's ridiculous attitude would not permeate this match.

"Perhaps," his grandfather said, and then he sat down himself. Before the four players sat a huge podium, which was slowly building the city's setting. While the game set itself, they could watch as each street corner and building of the past emerged as if they had never stood the test of time. The city was practically glistening, and Vegeta saw as Kakarotto's eyes softened just slightly above her fan, seeming to be perhaps … sad.

He sneered as the low-level soldiers' ghettos began to pop up, and turned to his forefathers, "I suppose that every era has their faults. Look at that. Just as filthy as they are now." His gaze met his wife's, and he said, "And you want to fight as them? You'd lose in the first five minutes."

"You're not backing out, are you?" His lip curled as her sad eyes vanished, and glared at him in return, "That would be a shame."

Clutching at the control table, he said as calmly as he could manage, "No one's backing out. That would be giving in to your ridiculous scare tactics, and such strategies will never work with us."

"Indeed? I don't want anyone to back out, Vegeta," she said, and he saw his father and grandfather twitch at the name, but they did nothing else. Kakarotto gently waved her fan at her face, inspecting it as she spoke, "I want to play against you. General Nappa would've played similarly to Lady Sunabi since he was her teacher, and it would have been dull to beat another player like her."

"I see," the emperor said, and Vegeta stared at him, "You would like us to play at our full potential. Son. Grandson. I order you not to underestimate this woman during our match. Play with your all." He cast his eyes to Vegeta, "Only fools claim a victory before the battle has even begun."

The war-game podium trilled, alerting the four that the setting and pieces had been created. Now there was only the matter of the players to set where their pieces and squadrons would be. While Vegeta put armies down onto the playing field, he often glanced up at his wife, wondering at her sudden attitude and poise. He could still remember how pliable and fearful she had been before they had married, and closer to him yet was the memory of this morning of how willing and ready she had been – all before she had learned of his romps with his maids. Since he was the prince, it was his right to take any he wished to his bed, but this woman – still so very young – had forced him into a bet for his very sanity!

What was so appealing about her that he should drop all other prospects? He knew how small her breasts were, and that her hips were still slender and that of a girl's. Even should the baby help fill in the gaps, he could not see her form into a beauty. Comely perhaps, but she would never become anything like his mother or grandmother. She would always be but a girl in his eyes. This foolish game and bet proved it.

Once they were finished, he watched the game load their players, and he noted that his father had placed his forces on the ground and in the streets, and his grandfather's troops were ranged around and inside the palace. Vegeta's were en route in the sky to the deeper end of the city where his wife's rebels would be, but upon looking at the board in the ghettos, he could see not one rebel on the streets. He chuckled to himself as he realized that she had hidden them within the buildings of the ghettos, but that was as far as she could go. Buildings were easily destroyed, and the rebels would be stamped under his army's feet before his father or grandfather would get to play. Already, he could see his forefathers become slightly disappointed.

Kakarotto's forces only consisted of the ghettos currently, and the low-levels of those regions of the city. The rebels of this scenario had an interesting quirk however. As they would move toward the palace, they would affect other Saiyajin peasants, and the masses would join their cause, soon encompassing the entire city – the whole Rebel City against the Imperial Saiyajin Army was the favored result as it would give the rebel player the edge of majority. Yet this was easily avoidable by killing off the Saiyajin from the ghettos before they reached the majority of the population.

Not that even a whole city of rebels was a problem for them, but it was always troublesome to hunt down every last peasant.

She had made it all easy for him by hiding the rebels. If he just destroyed the terribly built constructions of the ghettos and some of the surrounding buildings just in case, the game would be over almost instantly. He heard the soft flap of the queen and empress' fans, and smiled to himself.

This was easy.

With their reviews done, the next turn started, and he and his father went to work on the buildings quickly – not even needed to converse about it to know that this was the correct course of action.

While the buildings were destroyed however, he saw that Kakarotto had only smiled, and he soon realized why. Usually there was a call from the podium when one side won, and if she had any left alive, they would have gone into the battle screen to show how she would retaliate. Neither of these things happened. The emperor's voice startled him, "She somehow moved the rebels out of range of the ghettos. Whether or not this is a fluke, I don't care. Find the rebels, and destroy them."

Every turn, however, Vegeta could only watch as no battle screens popped up, and less and less peasants appeared on the streets to work at their stations to barter and trade. Their stockpiles, which relied on the work of the city's peasants was lowering. He was not privy to Kakarotto's stockpiles, but he was certain that she was happily rolling in silver, gold and food – not to mention water, one of the most precious commodities of their desert planet. He felt some slight relief that, for some reason, their incoming stockpiles would never fully deplete, yet when the entire city was the fabled Rebel City, a quarter of their incoming stockpiles went with it, and that was a blow no one would want to take. Seventy-five percent was still more than enough to take care of the rebels though.

If they ever found them!

Then in one turn, there was no one but army troops on the streets. Vegeta looked at his grandfather, and murmured, "We can't just destroy the entire city, looking for them."

The emperor studied her before he nodded, "See what happens."

"What?" King Vegeta leaned in to listen more carefully, frowning at the man, "You can't mean that. This is just the Talji'Be Rebellion."

"And she's winning it," he said, and Vegeta swallowed hard, remembering the bet abruptly. "Destroy the city, and leave no building standing. We will not lose to a First Wife."

"Only fools declare their own victory." Kakarotto tilted her head slightly, "Isn't that what you said?"

He turned his eyebrows down hard, and said, "Are you calling me a fool?"

"Yes. You won't find anything if you destroy the city." Smiling, she leaned back in her seat, fanning herself lightly even as the three men stared and gnashed their fangs. The empress and queen's fans had stopped flapping long ago, only watching currently as Kakarotto said, "Have you checked your stockpiles lately?"

"Grandson," he said as an order, but Vegeta stared at him, wondering why he seemed to be falling for this. "Grandson! Check the stockpile." Growling, the prince turned to his console, summoning the review of their stockpile for the last few turns, and then went silent. Mentally doing calculations in his head, Vegeta's jaw started to drop. His grandfather looked over his shoulder before he nodded, "Seventy percent efficiency. That's a strange number."

"What?" The king rose to go to the emperor's left side, peering in at the graphs as well, "That's impossible though. With the Rebel City, you can only get this down to seventy-five percent at best."

Rubbing his chin, the emperor said, "Check our supply lanes, and make sure there aren't any rebels stealing from them." He eyed the princess, "I must congratulate you briefly, Princess. This game is proving to be far more interesting than I thought it would be."

"I don't mean to entertain you," she said, "I'm just playing a game."

"Aren't we all," Vegeta heard his grandfather whisper, but Kakarotto didn't seem to hear it, typing into her console before ending her turn.

It was several turns after that when it happened. Vegeta had been telling the emperor and king about the steady decline of their income each turn, and then suddenly, there were rebels in the palace.

The king's troops were on the other end of the playing field, and Vegeta's own were barely a turn away, so his grandfather moved swiftly to stop the intruders who were transforming servants to their cause. It took Vegeta a moment to realize that the rebels had taken something, and he squinted at the display, trying to determine what the bundle was before his wife said, "I'm sorry, Emperor, but I'm going to kill you now."

Scowling up at his wife, he watched as she pressed some more buttons on her console for her turn, and then he saw the number of people in the Imperial Army go down by one. Vegeta paled when he remembered then that his grandfather had been the Prince's heir at the time of this battle. Emperor Vegeta had just been a baby, and Kakarotto had just killed the bundle that represented him in the game.

Sparing a glance at her abdomen, he sat back slowly, exhaling a long breath to relax himself. Nothing about this game had been right from the start, and Kakarotto's calm visage was a deep thorn in his side, twisting and writhing as it stuck in deeper, but he could do nothing to stop it. This new development had made Vegeta even more uneasy, and currently, he could do little else but look at her stomach, clutching at the table while the emperor cleaned up whatever rebels were left in the palace. When their turn was over, he patted Vegeta's shoulder again for what seemed the thousandth time.

He said, "It's just a game."

"I'm going to talk to her after this," Vegeta said softly, pressing in his own commands to send some of his forces close to the palace.

"That's probably best," he finally retracted his hand. "Even though it is a game, this is quite normal, and happens all the time. My mother was a strong woman, and survived the rebellion's attacks because they had been foreseen ahead of time, and the rebels had been weaklings." After a moment, the emperor put in his own orders, and then watched as the Imperial Army killed the Princess piece, "This was not foreseen though, Grandson, and the rebels had been stronger than normal third-class rebels. What does that tell you?"

"Information is important," he said, and then finally raised his gaze to meet the surprised eyes of Kakarotto. She had seen the killing of the Princess piece, and seemed to be storing the sequence in her mind. She now knew what would happen to her should she fail to protect his heir. Vegeta raised his voice so that she could hear him, "Was this for information, Princess?"

"Curiosity," she said, "though that amounts to the same thing."

His cold clammy hands started to slacken, and he sat straight in his chair again. The game commenced, and Vegeta refused to let his guard down once more.

As the stockpiles went down, the three men went to work on posting guards about the palace, and sent troops marching up and down the palace halls while within, another wedding was happening. The prince watched it all halfheartedly, only able to recall the woman that had stepped out of the rejuvenation fluid, and suddenly defied everything that he was doing. How one night she had told him that she wanted more, but didn't know how to tell him, and then had paid too bitter of a price. He could remember her laughter later that same day, and then realized that it had been from knowing she had surprised them all – he, and his parents and grandparents.

_I don't want to marry anyone else,_ he thought, _but I'm going to have to anyway. You've surprised us all again, and you've shocked me the most. Do you know that? Was that in your plans? Are you laughing behind your fan now, Princess?_

---

Sighing into her fan, she then looked down at it again, eyes narrowing as she mentally recalled all of the placements of her troops again. Just one more turn, and it would all be over. She wondered what they would do when they saw the numbers of rebels pour into the palace.

Not only was she using the caverns under the city, but also she had put the tunnels deep in the deserts that lead to other great cities to use. In her next turn, she was finally going to instigate her assault. She had at last constructed an army to match against their own – only hers had been beaten and forged into their places while the whole Saiyajin Army had been slowly wasted by searching for her 'hiding' army.

Using the tunnels to overtake the other cities, she had built stadiums for her army, pitting them against one another to strengthen them before letting them heal. Continuously, she had done this until she had finally molded the rebels into a true fighting force.

Had this been a true war, they would have found her out in only a day, but with the war-game acting as a blind, she could do as she wished. They didn't know that they could move out from what was visible on the display after all, and she wasn't about to reveal this little secret to them if she had the chance.

She put in her orders, and began to march her armies toward Talji'Be.

They didn't appear for several turns, but when they did, she watched the emperor and king's faces twist into displeasure. Her husband only lowered his head, inspecting the forms suddenly appearing on the streets of the city. After a moment, he said, "There are more rebels than there should be."

"What a spectacular game this has been, and we're at what? Twenty percent efficiency?" The emperor didn't even wait for Vegeta's confirmation, and laughed, "Princess, you are very interesting. I can't wait to see how you cheated."

"I didn't cheat," she said, pulling a pout. "I've never even touched this board before now."

"Yes, I can imagine that the deal with your husband would be off then," Emperor Vegeta said.

Kakarotto almost expected the prince to smirk or laugh, but he did neither. Watching him while they played their turns, they began a defense against the Rebel Army that had finally appeared. Vegeta played his turn with his head down, and appeared distant to the rest of the room. Kakarotto tried to force him from her mind, just wanting to finish and win the game quickly.

She would _not_ be just his dessert at the end of this day, and she would remain his main course for the rest of her life. Though – she recalled – it was not possible for him to lay with her while the baby was still so tiny, so she supposed that she would have to resort to activities that she didn't particularly like.

She only hoped that he knew that he couldn't be involved in other sexual activities with other women either.

--

Turles switched the ship into auto-pilot, and then brought up news reports from Vegeta-sei for the past few weeks that he had been gone. Finding the obituaries for deceased soldiers in action, he grinned at the tiny excerpt on Captain Bardock of the fifty-ninth squad that had been in charge of the recent Kanassa-sei purge.

"_Captain Bardock of the fifty-ninth squadron was killed in the middle of his Oozaru transformation by several Kanassajin soldiers. All went well during the rest of the battle, and the mission was completed by his troops in honor of their fallen captain."_

He searched through the other obituaries that he could find before he actually found a small article written about the event. The headlines of "Mother Loses Family, and Life" caught his attention, and he skimmed it before he nodded, knowing that all had gone according to plan.

Finally, he spun around on his chair, and smirked at his captives, saying, "You've got two choices. Either Cretuy-sei or Est-sei – which do you want to land on?"

"Why are you doing this? I've never heard of Saiyajin helping anyone else but their own, so why?"

"Oh, I am only helping my own," he said, leaning in slightly, causing them to back up an inch, "it just turns out that the only way to help them is by helping you."

Turles returned to his inspection of the news reports, rifling through the business and politics section to see if any mention of the Kanassa-sei politicians were made, but found nothing of interest.

They should have been considering themselves lucky that they were alive after the assault, and that they were even allowed to keep their little families. This was only because they had been with them when Turles finally come to take them to his ship.

He said, "Cretuy-sei or Est-sei. Pick one already."

"Both," another captive said, "split us between the two planets."

Studying the Kanassajin silently, he then nodded, "I'll see what I can do to remain out of sight." He smirked wider, "After all, this is so that my family remains safe and 'dead.'"

--

_I'm going to be cheap, and not let people know who won until the next chapter._

_Because I'm mean like that._

_And I can't really concentrate anymore …_

--


End file.
